


Mass Effect: A.E.

by Mr_BiLL



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Titan AE (2000)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Heroine's Journey, Post-Mass Effect 3, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 77,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_BiLL/pseuds/Mr_BiLL
Summary: Nearly sixteen years have passed since the Reapers were defeated and the terrible threat that they posed for so long dispelled. Much of the Milky Way has recovered, rebuilt, and, in some cases, even prospered. It is then, one fateful day, that a new threat emerges from the depths of space in the form of a vicious and enigmatic race known as the Drej, who without hesitation, proceed to show the galaxy the full extent of their destructive capacity. And in the wake of the devastation that follows, the search for salvation falls once again upon an individual bearing the name, "Shepard."_____________________This story is the first novel-length tale I have ever completed. It represents the culmination of nearly two years' work and all the love in the galaxy for a video game trilogy that first captured my heart (and most of my free time) back in 2012. In light of the recent announcement for the new Mass Effect Legendary Edition remake on the horizon, I figure there's no time like the present to share this story which means so much to me and, I hope, will for you as well."Keelah se’lai."- Mr. BiLL
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Introduction - The Two Universes

To better understand the contents of this story the reader may find it helpful to first explore the driving forces of inspiration behind it. Namely, the _Mass Effect_ video game franchise and the _Titan AE_ animated motion picture.

Created by Canadian developer BioWare and first released in 2008, _Mass Effect_ tells the story of the human leader, Commander Shepard. Joining the commander is a memorable cast of allies, all hailing from different areas of the Milky Way galaxy, who together embark on a wondrous journey through the stars. Their mission leads them into mysterious environments, deadly foes, fierce interstellar battles, and ultimately a revelation to shake the very foundations of galactic history. The game, set in the year 2183, depicts a galaxy teeming with extraterrestrial life, cultures, and technology. Humanity has taken to the stars and become well established within this greater galactic community. It is a time of adventure, intrigue, and possibility, but also of darkness and hidden dangers beyond where the stars shine. Much of what serves to distinguish the first title in the series even years later is the incredible amount of detail put into the game’s world-building. Each species is given a clear homeworld, biological origin, a system of government, culture, subculture, exploits, and vices. As the series continues in _Mass Effect 2_ , and eventually concludes with _Mass Effect 3_ , the player bears witness to the stakes for Shepard and friends rising ever higher, until at last the very fate of the Milky Way itself rests in their, or rather the player’s, hands.

What has helped the series as a whole to become so beloved in the hearts of players worldwide is its remarkable capacity to allow for player choice to dictate how the narrative of each game unfolds. While the overall plot is never severely altered, much of the specifics on how certain events transpire and, in particular, the end game whereabouts of the characters involved are all largely dependent on decisions made by the player. Depending on their choices, battles may be won or lost, enemies may be convinced to back down, allies be persuaded to rethink their beliefs (with sometimes major consequences later on) and Shepard himself, or herself, may present as a heroic symbol of justice or an infamous renegade with a penchant for brutal tactics. So much does player choice matter, in fact, that one may even decide the fates of certain characters to the point of life, death, and love. It is for these qualities and many more that the _Mass Effect_ franchise continues to delight both longtime fans and newcomers alike.

 _Titan AE_ has its own history. While originally conceived as a live-action film in the late 1990s, the concept was later switched to animation by 20th Century Fox going into production. Overseeing the film was director duo Don Bluth and his longtime friend and collaborator, Gary Goldman. Both had worked together on projects before and were each accomplished creators in the field of animation. Joining the pair was a plethora of artists: ranging from veterans at Fox Animation Studios who had already seen success with their 1997 animated feature, _Anastasia_ , to sound and effects creators fresh off the set of _Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace_.

 _Titan AE_ premiered in early summer, 2000 but sadly proved a commercial failure, having largely mixed reviews at the time. Despite these failings, the film nonetheless garnered its supporters (including yours truly at the mere age of eight) and would eventually go on to achieve cult status in the realm of science fiction cinema as the digital age took hold. Nor was the film without critical praise, with Roger Ebert himself giving it 3.5 out of 4 stars and citing one of its interstellar chase scenes as “a perfect [example] of what animation can do and live-action cannot.”

 _Titan AE_ tells the story of Cale Tucker, a human born in the year 3023, who after witnessing a terrifying act of destruction at a young age, is forced into a life of nomadic wandering across the stars. More than fifteen years later, he happens across an old acquaintance and is eventually convinced to join a somewhat ragtag group of adventurers on a quest for humanity’s last great hope. Like its video game counterpart, _Titan A.E._ depicts a future where humans have already conquered space travel. The nature of galactic culture is also similar, with the film providing several examples of humans and other species freely socializing, trading, and living together.

Furthermore, both Cale and Shepard are similar as protagonists. They are young, but not naive. They can be impulsive, even reckless at times, but in the end, hold humanity’s best interests at heart. They both belong to unique ships and crews, most of whom they care for and consider steadfast allies. And above all, they alone hold the keys necessary to overcome the challenges lying in wait for them. It is from these parallels that the basis for this story is derived.

 _Mass Effect: A.E._ is a story of what happens next, following the climactic events of the third game in Shepard’s trilogy. I say ‘a’ story because as mentioned before, while the main events of the series are clearly defined, much of the detail falls to player choice. So great are the number of variables present, in fact, it would not be far fetched to suggest that every person who has played the games did so while getting a slightly different narrative experience than the rest. As _Mass Effect_ project director, Casey Hudson, once said in an interview, “we have a rule in our franchise that there is no canon. You as a player decide what your story is.” It is therefore important to approach this story not as a definitive sequel, but as rather one possible sequel of many, depending on how the events of the main trilogy unfolded this time.

 _Mass Effect: A.E._ is also a story that brings in certain characters and narrative aspects from the _Titan A.E._ film into the _Mass Effect_ universe. It attempts to connect two equally exciting and remarkable works of science fiction, while at the same time celebrating the creative accomplishments of both.

In conclusion: To those familiar with the _Mass Effect_ series but not _Titan A.E._ , may this story give you the chance to revisit old faces and worlds once again for a new adventure. To those familiar with _Titan A.E._ but not _Mass Effect_ , may this story breathe fresh joy and appreciation for a film that holds a cherished, if not acclaimed, spot in your star-filled hearts. And last but not least, to those who are familiar with both and to those who are familiar with neither; welcome aboard, sit down, strap in…and brace yourself.


	2. First Reminiscence

_Everyone knows who Commander Shepard is. Growing up, people around me always knew him at once from the name alone. Later, I learned that despite the Milky Way’s boundless diversity, Shepard is known just as well on other worlds as he is on Earth. Perhaps even more extraordinary is that despite the passage of time, the story of Commander Shepard tends to differ only a little across repeated tellings._

_If I once wondered how this was possible, there is no doubt in me anymore. The story remains unchanged because of what it tells; Shepard is the one who once united the galaxy against the single greatest threat it had ever faced._

_The Reapers. Even now, there are still some who cannot say that name without a shadow crossing their heart. Most children learn about the Reapers as soon as they learn about Shepard, but unlike him, there is no pride or joy to be found in the knowledge._

_The story of the Reaper war is not for me to tell, but it bears reaffirming that what Shepard did to stop them, no one else could have done. And in doing so, his name was passed into eternal lore._

_Although far more has transpired since that time, the spirit of triumph that Shepard left us with remains strong in our hearts. It serves to this day as a beacon of determination for every individual and a reminder of our galaxy’s resolve._

_It is just as well. For even with the Reapers gone, adversity will always find new faces to confront us with. And while Shepard’s name is eternal, he himself is not. We are taught to remember Shepard the hero, not Shepard the human, but it is the human Shepard who saved us. And that is just one more reason why I still miss him so much._


	3. Cataclysm

Earth was gone. Throughout all the galaxy rang this one undeniable fact. It was gone, destroyed in an assault of unprecedented devastation.

On some worlds it was all anybody could do not to reel in shock at the mere mention. Others remained silent, unable or perhaps unwilling to face the truth in full. On the Extranet this mindset was reflected across several areas of demographics and financial data that appeared locked in place, a denial aimed at the economic chaos that was only one of many fallouts.

In hindsight, Kaidan reflected, these responses shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The tendency to balk at galaxy-wide problems until they were smashing its collective door down seemed to be one of the few traits every species in the Milky Way possessed. He’d witnessed it plenty before now and to think it would ever cease between crises was childish.

A human of fifty-one, Kaidan Alenko stood around six feet and bore the unmistakable profile of a career soldier. His broad shoulders were further accentuated by the padded battledress uniform he was wearing, beneath which the hardness of his physique was easy to make out. His face had been a charming, almost boyish, one in years past, but was now heavily lined in the brow and scruffy around the jawline. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his hair was noticeably grayer than from when he had begun his service, almost thirty years ago.

While on the way to his meeting, Kaidan had paused by an information board and, under the pretext of checking the news, tried to stem the disquieting torrent in his head. Exhausted as he was, his mind had to be clear this morning.

The display flipped over methodically from stocks to traffic patterns, neither of whose numbers indicated the presence of the crisis at hand. Of all the extraordinary places throughout the galaxy, the epicenter for routine and stability had to be here on the Citadel. Although, as experience had taught him before, this great comfort of the galactic capital also happened to be its worst vulnerability. The displays might not be showing it, but the aftermath of Earth’s destruction was rapidly spiraling into what might well become a galaxy-wide outbreak of unrest.

Kaidan sighed and turned away to resume his traversing down the long series of silvery crisscrossed walkways. The outlook of the galaxy’s populace might be mixed, but to his mind, the chain of events from three months ago to now couldn’t have been more vivid.

***

He had been right in the middle of enjoying his first Canadian lager in ages when it happened. Eden Prime was the only human colony to import them. His first sip immediately brought back memories of the cool mountain air from his home. A wave of richness followed and with it, a feeling of contentment he’d gone far too long without. Five sips later and, with his eyes shut, it was _almost_ like being back in Vancouver.

As Kaidan raised the glass for a sixth, the private comm-channel on his omni-tool began to ring. It was an emergency order to return at once to the Citadel. He frowned. Then the breaking headline on the bar’s monitor caught his eye: _Earth Destroyed_.

The words registered but didn’t make sense. The warmth in him fell away and a strange chill began to creep up in its place. The headline changed and a garbled video clip of Earth appeared. Earth under attack. Dozens of cruisers fleeing desperately from the planet. Civilian and Systems Alliance vessels alike, all engaged furiously against a fleet of spacecraft Kaidan had never seen before.

They were not much larger than an average two-man fighter, but their shape was harsh and eerie. A glowing blue hexagonal bulk with sharp corners at the edges formed the primary structure beneath which curved out four long, spindled struts. Whether landing supports or energy rods, Kaidan couldn’t guess. These and two outstretched pincer-like wings, combined with the bulkhead, made the ships look uncannily like giant crabs skittering through space.

Kaidan was about to force himself to leave when the screen changed again.

Earth was further away in the new image and the battle was reduced to small dots of light winking in and out. But now a new ship had appeared and at the sight of it, the chill in Kaidan’s spine spiked into outright dread. Like the fighters it too glowed an ominous electric blue, but it was far larger than anything Kaidan had ever seen or heard of. The body resembled a massive glistening hourglass, with towering structures curling out from the sides like sinister claws. It didn’t seem to be flying, but rather hovering steadily towards the blue and green planet before it.

In the furthest recesses of Kaidan’s mind a dark memory stirred. He was wrong. There was one ship it reminded him of. The memory began to grow, mixing the dread in Kaidan with its own.

**_I am the vanguard of your destruction…_ **

“No!” he said aloud.

It couldn’t be. The Reapers were dead. They had been wiped out forever years ago. And then his reason caught up with his fear. Even the largest Reapers had never surpassed more than three kilometers. Whereas this ship was nearly triple that size. And as he gazed more closely, he noticed too the colors, the textures and even the way the ship moved were all actually quite different.

 _No_ , he decided. These were no Reapers. But that meant only one conclusion: this was something else.

The ship on the screen drew near to Earth and the tip at its bottom crackled with white light. Then all at once without any warning, a colossal beam of bright pulsating energy erupted forth and shot straight at the Earth’s surface. The planet shuddered under the assault and a seething red spot flared up from the point of impact. The beam did not lessen, but continued driving down. Deeper and deeper it plunged until, with a gut-wrenching horror, Kaidan saw it pierce out the planet’s other side. The rippling mass of red grew and began to sweep out. Blue turned to orange and green to brown. The entire planet trembled and began to spin as ocean-sized cracks tore across its surface.

For an instant that seemed to span an eternity, the Earth simply remained there; fractured and spinning helplessly. Then a fierce yellow light came bursting up through the cracks in the surface. The spinning intensified. Great flecks of crust began breaking off. And with a terrible blinding flash, the planet burst apart at its center. Exploding, sundering and whirling out into a fragmented shockwave of fire, rocks, and dust.

The image fell into static. The clip ended and another news label appeared. Kaidan neither saw it nor cared. He stood frozen, fighting against the incalculable wave of horror that threatened to drown him. Not now. There wasn’t time. He had to get back to the Citadel. The Council would need him.

_Go. Now._

Amidst the thralls of a grief more painful than he’d ever known, Kaidan had left the bar on Eden Prime and returned to the Citadel, where he’d received his mission. And now the Council had called for him again today.

***

The walkway ahead of Kaidan began to slope upwards and soon expanded out into a wide concourse even more pristine than the paths below.

The area where Kaidan now found himself was home to the embassy offices for various galactic species, as well as the headquarters for Citadel security known as “C-Sec.” Several more information boards could be seen up ahead, along with a plethora of signs to navigate the facilities.

Kaidan couldn’t help marveling slightly, as he always did, at the sheer lavishness on this level of the Citadel. Officially referred to as the presidium, its overall appearance of a gleaming chrome-coated metropolis, dotted lavishly with parkland trees and water reservoirs, only served to intensify its prestige, as well as its elitist separation from the rest of the Citadel.

Ignoring the passersby and anxious lines outside embassy reception rooms, Kaidan strode directly down to the far end of the concourse, where a set of polished elevator doors were visible. Beyond these stood the greatest structure of all, the council tower.

Unlike the embassies, which employed multiple representatives for each species, the council had only four members, but together they held more political power than several planets combined. In addition to humans, added about twenty years previous, the council races included the asari, turians, and salarians, all of whom had gained membership the same way humans had: by proving their capacity for galaxy-wide influence.

As Kaidan drew near the elevator, he noticed a figure leaning against the wall by the doors. Coming closer, he saw it was a turian: distinctly taller than any human and largely avian in appearance, with three long talon-like fingers on either hand, powerful curved limbs, and a pair of mandibles around the mouth.

Upon reaching the doors and recognizing the blue targeting visor over the turian’s left eye, Kaidan allowed himself his first real smile in weeks.

“Hey,” he said, “I was wondering if I’d see you here.”

“Hey to you,” the turian replied. His voice was hearty with an undertone like a flanger. His dark eyes glanced over Kaidan, taking in the tired demeanor and weary expression. “You look like hell, Alenko. Have you gotten any rest since getting in?”

Kaidan waved off the concern with a hand. “It’s fine, Garrus. I’m okay. And you know you can use my first name, right?”

“Sorry, force of habit - turian upbringing and all that,” Garrus replied. “I’d hoped to catch you sooner, but to say it’s been busy around here would be the understatement of the century.”

“This is nothing,” Kaidan gestured vaguely at the Citadel’s artificial sky. “After where I’ve been, just being back is restful.”

Garrus looked understanding. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Everyone here’s saying that even with all the reserves we’re tapping into, damage control is still a long way from easing up.”

 _That’s putting it mildly,_ Kaidan thought. Changing the subject, he asked, “Did the Council invite you? Because I sure wouldn’t mind some backup for this.” 

Garrus shook his head. “They just asked me to check in before the session. I’d offer to give you some covering fire in there, but I’ve got to be at Huerta Memorial in the next hour.”

Kaidan glanced inquisitively at his old friend. “What for?”

“Well,” Garrus hesitated, checking to make sure they were alone by the elevator. Then quietly, he said, “Athena’s being discharged today and I’ve been asked to look after her.”

Kaidan was surprised. “Has she recovered already?”

“The staff seem to think so.”

“And they’re asking you because-?”

Garrus gave a shrug. “Probably easiest on the hospital. Being listed as her legal guardian makes the paperwork a lot simpler.” He hesitated and looked past Kaidan. “Also, she doesn’t really have anyone else. Her next of kin would have been Matriarch Aethyta, but she passed away last year.”

Kaidan sighed. “Yeah. Any family’s going to be important now.”

Garrus eyed him warily. Then, sounding as if it cost him a great deal, said, “About that - I don’t suppose, while you were out in Sol, you learned anything about Shepard or Liara?”

Kaidan’s gaze shifted to the floor. “Come on, Garrus,” he said, uneasily.

“Look, I know there’s probably a cruiser’s worth of red tape between you and the question,” Garrus pressed, “but it’s not just for me that I’m asking.”

“I know,” said Kaidan. “It’s not that. If I’d seen something, anything, I’d tell you in a heartbeat. But Garrus,” and now it was Kaidan who sounded weighed down by his words, “there wasn’t anything to learn.”

Garrus said nothing, but continued to watch Kaidan with a strange uncertainty in his gaze.

Deciding it was time to finish the conversation, Kaidan leaned forward and pressed the call panel.

“I should head up. Don’t want to be late.”

The polished doors slid open and Kaidan made to enter, but Garrus held out a hand.

“Listen,” he said, “You’re probably right, I know. It’s most likely delusion I’m going after, but,” and suddenly his eyes were serious and his voice, earnest, “Shepard told me something the last time we spoke - on Earth a few weeks before all this - and well, let’s just say I keep coming back to it.”

Kaidan’s attention rose at once. “What did he say?”

“That the spectre assignment he’d been doing for the last several years was working as overseer for a classified construction project on Earth. Beyond saying it was nearly finished, he only gave me a few other details. First, this project was apparently something unheard of in all of galactic history. Second, that its technological potential surpassed both the mass relays and the Citadel.”

“What?” Kaidan said in amazement.

“Those were his words,” said Garrus. “Sounds incredible, I know. And lastly apart from himself, the construction team, and the Council, nobody else knew of this project’s existence.”

“So, why let you in on it?”

Garrus’s expression grew dark. “Because I think there was something about it troubling him. He didn’t say so, but I read it in his face. Whatever the reason, he must’ve thought someone else needed to know. At least in part. That’s my theory anyway, and you and I both know Shepard’s never been one to make big decisions lightly.”

A silence followed Garrus’s story as the two stood lost in thought.

Finally, Kaidan said, “Are you saying there’s a connection between this project and the attack?”

“I don’t know,” Garrus shook his head in agitation. “ I just don’t know. Maybe, but if there is I can’t prove it. On the other hand, if the Council knew about this project too then that’s something to go on. Ask them about it during your session.”

Kaidan was skeptical. “Even if they know, you think they’ll just open up and tell me?”

“You are one of their spectres, that makes your odds better than mine,” Garrus replied with another shrug.

Kaidan thought it over. He couldn’t see Garrus’s account as being much help in getting the Council to volunteer answers, even if they did know something. But Garrus was right about one thing: the commander would never have disclosed something like this without serious reason.

“Alright,” Kaidan said deciding. “I’ll see what I can do.” Pressing the panel once more, Kaidan stepped into the elevator. “Hey, Garrus,” he added, “it really is good to see you. It feels…” he paused, trying to find the right words.

“Just like old times?” Garrus suggested, smiling slightly as the doors slid shut between them.

Kaidan gave the smallest of chuckles as the elevator began to ascend. _Yeah, something like that._


	4. Deliberation

With a soft whooshing of air, the doors parted and Kaidan stepped out into the tower foyer. The space, though constructed in the same shining style as the rest of the Presidium, contrasted starkly to the silvery hues of the embassies below. From the edges of the ceiling to its polished floor, the entire area was bathed in warm orange and purple light. Between the walkways leading out from the elevator there were a number of exquisitely maintained trees, all draped in pink flower petals. These along with the lavish sculptures and water fountain at the chamber’s center reminded Kaidan of cherry blossom gardens back on Earth.

_Used to be back on Earth._

“There you are, Alenko!” Kaidan started at the voice and saw a salarian gesturing briskly towards him. “You’re cutting it close, there’s less than two minutes before we start.”

“It’s not my fault they still haven’t fixed the speed of that elevator,” Kaidan said, striding towards the salarian, who had already begun heading for the chamber’s far end.

Unlike turians, salarians were roughly equal in height to humans, but much leaner in frame, with dexterous limbs and long nimble fingers. An amphibious species by nature, salarians had large oval eyes with slitted pupils covered by thin membranes instead of lids. Out the top of their skulls protruded two short crests curving towards one another, giving salarian heads an arch-like appearance. While completely hairless, their leathery skin could range from blue and brown to bright red or even green. For many humans, including Kaidan, they looked not unlike a race of large bipedal salamanders.

“Did Vakarian speak with you?” asked the salarian, ignoring Kaidan’s comment about the elevator.

“Yeah, just before heading up. I’m doing fine by the way, Bau. No need to ask.”

The salarian, Jondom Bau, gave a dry laugh. “My apologies, but as you’re probably well aware by now my professional demeanor is rarely abandoned. Especially on occasions like this.” His tone was crisp, but flat and he spoke quickly with the practiced air of one who lives every day in a hurry; a typical salarian trait that was a consequence of their brief lifespan.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Kaidan. “It’s just you and me for this, then?”

“So it appears. It’s no surprise the Council asked you to be here, but between you and me I had expected them to call more than two of us.”

The pair drew near the end of the chamber, where a broad staircase led up to the Council meeting room. Flanking the bottom steps were two turian C-Sec guards outfitted, rather atypically, in full-tactical armor and carrying modified assault rifles. Overt intimidation at its finest.

Up the stairs the landing was smaller, but just as pristine with the same warm glow and lavish flora. Ahead from where Kaidan and Bau approached, the floor to their sides fell away into an open chasm across which a central path narrowed into a bridge, but for only partway across. Beyond the gap, silhouetted against a massive twenty-four pane window, was the Council.

The four galactic figureheads stood side by side, facing out upon a raised platform. Before each was set a well-adorned lectern to serve as both a personal terminal and speaking stand. To see the most powerful individuals in all the galaxy stand together with so unwavering a vigilance was, for many, nothing short of extraordinary.

“Spectre Bau, Spectre Alenko, thank you for coming,” said Tevos, the asari councilor, gazing calmly down at the pair of them. Her voice was pleasant, but Kaidan knew it was underscored by more years of experience than the rest of the room put together.

Renowned for their immense knowledge and insight, asari tended to reach in age up to a thousand years or more, making them easily one of the longest living galactic races. Beyond this, the asari were also, biologically, one of the most curious species in existence. Although of mono gender, they appeared largely alike to female humans, having similar eyes, voices and body shape. Their skin tones, however, ranged - in similar fashion to salarians - among every variety of blue, and occasionally teal or purple. Furthermore, instead of hair, their scalps curved out into a series of cartilage follicles. While only semi-flexible, these gradually came to form a rudimentary head crest with age, not unlike the sharper, bone-based ones of turians. It was for shared traits like these that the asari were the only species to be universally liked by and even attractive by all other races. That and perhaps their unique ability to pass on both their own traits and those of other species to their children through an equal parts physical and spiritual process referred to as “bonding.”

Having now spent several human lifespans worth in service on the Citadel, Councilor Tevos was a near definitive embodiment of everything asari, and she knew it. 

“This session today,” Tevos continued, “concerns the investigation of Earth’s destruction and the beings responsible. This investigation has been ongoing now for approximately three months and, based on reports from all divisions, we believe it is time to discuss our next course of action.” She paused for a moment to let this statement permeate, then concluded, “Spectre Alenko, you may begin your summary.”

Reaching over, Kaidan tapped a code into the omni-tool device on his wrist. Within seconds the information flashed up on a massive display projector standing just off to the side of the gap.

A lengthy compilation of data files and images began to cycle across the screen. The images were heavily annotated with cropped or highlighted areas, and the text files were peppered all over with miniature diagrams showing what appeared to be various calculations of waves and particle displacements.

“It’s taken a lot of piecing together, but my team and I did manage to fill in a few blanks,” Kaidan said, adjusting the display. “To begin we took fresh readings all over the main area of attack. That ship left some pretty noticeable traces. Our subsequent analysis indicated multiple concentrations of high density plasma and degenerate gas.”

“Interesting,” Doorin, the salarian councilor and youngest among them remarked. “Energy of that nature is typically found within white dwarf stars. How is it that ship was capable of generating such patterns?”

“Right now we still don’t know,” Kaidan replied. “But there’s something else that caught my attention. While the plasma levels were off the charts, at the same time we found no traces of Eezo in our scans. Whatever that thing’s power source, it’s not like anything we use.”

The turian counselor, Sparatus, folded his long arms in consideration. “A ship powered by an alternative to Element Zero is unusual, but certainly not impossible. Was it the same with the smaller ships?”

“Yes,” Kaidan adjusted the display again to show several vids recovered from Alliance vessel hull cams during the assault. “Detailed footage of the larger ship was limited, but analysis of the stingers was much easier - it’s what they’re calling them on the extranet,” he added in response to the puzzled look some of the councilors gave him. “Their energy signatures are much smaller, but each one carries the same pattern as that large mothership. Actually-” he began, but then stopped himself.

“Please speak freely here, Spectre Alenko,” Tevos said. It was not a suggestion. 

“Yes councilor,” Kaidan said warily. “To be clear, this next point is only speculation. When I say the signature between all stingers was the same, I mean exactly the same. Down to the last electron. And based on images captured during the attack, their physical appearances are exactly identical too. It’s almost like they’re clones.”

“It is _precisely_ as if they are clones,” Bau asserted by Kaidan’s side. “I thought the very same. Not perhaps clones in the way we typically perceive them, as organics, but rather an artificial vehicular equivalent.”

Sparatus frowned. “Are you suggesting that these ships are another form of sapient construct? Like the Reapers?” His own voice darkened at the mention.

“Not necessarily,” Kaidan resumed. “There’s nothing to suggest the ships themselves are sapient, it’s just their composition is closer to what we’ve only seen from synthetic races before now.”

“There must have been other scans taken during the actual attack,” Doorin reasoned. “Were any lifeforms detected?’

Kaidan shook his head. “That’s what’s puzzling. They were taken, but no signs of organic life or synthetic for that matter were found.”

“There are three possible explanations then,” Tevos said. “A species was present, but undetectable for reasons yet unknown, the ships were being controlled remotely, or-” She glanced sideways at her fellow councilors, “the ships themselves were sapient.”

Silence fell as each of them considered this. Kaidan hoped very much the reason wasn’t the third one.

“Major Alenko,” it was the human councilor, Kahlee Sanders who now spoke. She was the only councilor who addressed him by his Alliance military rank. For a moment she met Kaidan’s eyes with a somber expression, giving him the feeling that out of everyone here, she alone understood how much this meeting was costing him. “I understand the challenges of this next query, but can you confirm the latest on the casualty reports?”

Kaidan took a deep breath and adjusted the display once more. “Our last assessment brought the total to about 400 thousand survivors,” he said mechanically.

“And the casualties?”

Kaidan looked away. “Eight billion dead or missing.”

“How many survivors are still being treated?” Tevos added.

“About a third of those taken in. Most of the intensive care ones have either been discharged or moved to other recovery facilities. The colonies on Bekenstein took in the bulk of them.” Kaidan lowered his eyes. “They’ve still got plenty of space after- after the war.”

“And the non-humans?” Sparatus queried.

“A few hundred still being treated.”

Sparatus leaned to one side and spoke so only the other counselors could hear. Sanders replied just as quietly and Doorin gave a slight nod.

No one seemed eager to reopen the conversation and Kaidan was beginning to hope that maybe they would call a recess, when Bau spoke again.

“Councilors, if I might take over, I have one more finding that should be discussed.”

Tevos considered him. “Proceed, Spectre Bau.”

Bau tapped his own omni-tool and Kaidan’s data vanished from the display to be replaced by a single vid window.

Kaidan eyed the image curiously. It showed Earth from an altitude just past the outer atmosphere and largely visible within the frame. In addition, the date stamp in the corner of the frame was labeled:

06-16-2202

The day of the attack _._ And yet, there was something strange about the footage Kaidan couldn’t quite place. He frowned trying to make sense of it as Bau went on.

“This footage was taken likewise by the hull cam of a ship during the attack. The timecode places it at just before the planet’s destruction.”

Even as Bau spoke, the planet’s surface in the background began to blaze up and fragment. Kaidan grimaced at the sight.

With a practiced motion, Bau typed in another command. The vid rewound itself to the beginning and the center of the image became enlarged. “You may have noticed an oddity, however,” he continued. “Unlike other battle footage obtained, this ship does not appear to be under attack by enemy stingers, nor does it appear to be in close proximity to any allied ships either.”

Kaidan stared at the image. That was what had been throwing him off. This ship was flying away from Earth like the others, but not one vessel, friend or foe, seemed to have noticed it. The enemy mothership was nowhere to be seen either. Whatever ship this might be, it was well removed from the main assault.

Sparatus frowned again. “An unusual find, but I fail to see relevance beyond that.”

“There’s more,” Bau assured him. “At face value, I agree there is little here, but where things get interesting is how this footage came to be in my possession. It was not submitted or recovered from the ship recording it. In fact, I have no idea what ship this footage is from.”

“What do you mean?” Sanders asked raising her eyebrows. “How did you get it?”

“By chance. I found the data files for the footage stored inside a planetary comm-buoy. Specifically, one orbiting around Therum in the Artemis Tau cluster.”

“What?” Kaidan exclaimed. The name of that planet rang an old, familiar bell in his mind.

“Yes, it was quite surprising,” Bau said, unaware of Kaidan’s revelation. “I was passing through when my scanners detected a signal coming from within the buoy’s storage unit.”

“What kind of signal?” inquired Sparatus. “Was it in response to your presence?”

“Not exactly,” Bau replied. “The signal was being broadcast through a public channel, but it was also heavily encrypted. When I finally managed to decipher it, it was only by using my spectre access codes as a key. Once unscrambled, the signal deactivated automatically and I found the data behind it to be the vid files, which you now see here.”

“Indeed?” Dorin said, his large eyes brimming with interest. “And were you able to verify this footage?”

“Of course,” Bau answered. “I checked for signs of visual tampering from VI’s, but it was clean. I also ran the numbers on its transmission pattern and they matched up. This is footage from when Earth was attacked, but taken and stored for spectre retrieval _outside_ of the Sol system.”

The councilors glanced at one another. Kaidan’s mind was racing at the implications of Bau’s words.

At last, Sanders said aloud what they were all thinking. “If the signal for this footage was encrypted so that only spectres could access it, then it would have to have been a spectre who stored it in the first place.”

“Or to be more precise, a spectre who was operating on Earth at the time,” Bau added with a shrewd look towards Kaidan.

 _Yeah,_ Kaidan agreed silently, _It’s from Shepard. Has to be. And if he escaped Sol to transmit this, that means he might still be alive._ He swept his gaze over each council member and in that instant decided to go for it.

“Councilors, what was the construction project you assigned Shepard to oversee on Earth?”


	5. Departure

Garrus Vakarian shifted noiselessly against the wall he was leaning on. The main lobby of Huerta Memorial Hospital was as bright and spotless as ever, but he hardly noticed it. All that he could think about right now was the daughter of his two closest friends, and the role in her life he would now have to fulfill.

Garrus had known Athena since she was only two and he’d liked her from the start. During that first visit she had shown herself to be possessed of the same determined energy as Shepard; something demonstrated by her trying, quite tenaciously, to climb up a bookshelf to reach one of her father’s model ships, and no matter how many times Liara gently put her back down again.

Garrus smiled to himself at the memory. All things considered, he probably would have offered to look after Athena even if she hadn’t been entrusted to his care. He’d certainly done his best to see her here.

The first time he’d come Garrus hadn’t known at all what to expect. The doctors told him Athena had arrived on the Citadel amidst throngs of other survivors, but had herself been alone without any friends or family. The moment he’d entered the room she had sat up in her bed, half-blinded by tears, and proceeded to hug him so hard he’d almost fallen over. Between sobs, she managed to get out that his was the first familiar face she’d seen since escaping.

 _Poor, brave kid._ Garrus thought. _Nobody deserves this._

Like many survivors she’d escaped to the Citadel through the New Conduit, a device constructed after the Reaper war to serve as a means of rapid transportation between the Citadel and Earth. The day Earth was attacked thousands of survivors had come flooding through, mostly on foot, but some in skycars and evacuation shuttles. Until without warning the conduit’s transit light beam had simply vanished. Garrus had seen it happen from where he was on the Citadel. No more survivors came through that way.

Over the following weeks that he returned to visit Athena she’d gradually told him more about what happened. She had been on her way to school when the attack began and recalled seeing hoards of stingers descending from the sky and commencing a pitched assault upon Earth’s land and orbital defenses. She’d quickly gotten swept up into the crowds of evacuees trying desperately to get to the New Conduit. During the rush Athena also remembered seeing the large enemy mothership hovering far above. The sight had terrified her, but she’d nevertheless managed to reach the conduit before it fired.

On the fate of her parents, however, Athena kept silent. It wasn’t clear to Garrus if she even knew where they had been at the time. Once or twice he’d gotten the impression that she might know more than she was disclosing, but felt no desire no press the matter. Despite what he’d asked Kaidan, Garrus too feared in his heart that both Shepard and Liara were almost certainly dead. He just didn’t want to admit it. How could he? The idea felt strangely implausible.

Slowly, Garrus traced a finger over a deep series of scars lining his face. He, Kaidan, Shepard and Liara had all known each other for nearly twenty years. What was more, they had faced down greater perils together than most witnessed in a lifetime: a Geth invasion, two rogue spectres, the terrorist organization Cerberus, and the Reapers, just to name a few. But no matter how dangerous a mission was, how grim the odds were, or how hopeless victory seemed, they had always managed to make it out in the end. Scarred perhaps, even gravely wounded, but still always alive. Only this time they hadn’t.

“Garrus?”

Brought back to his surroundings, Garrus saw Athena coming towards him. His face broke into a smile. “How’s it going?”

She smiled back, faintly. “Alright. What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, I was just remembering how back when I was with C-Sec we once spent two weeks tracking down a suspect who it turned out had been comatose in here the whole time.”

Athena raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“No, but the truth would take longer and I’m guessing you’re even more eager than I am to leave this place.”

The sides of Athena’s mouth twitched. “You guessed right.”

Garrus gestured to the lobby doors. “Lead the way.”

***

The inside of the skycar was smooth and compact. The windows of this particular model were smaller than usual and bore a dark tint to mask the light from the Citadel’s artificial sky. Athena was glad for the privacy. In here, she felt safer and less exposed - though she wasn’t sure from what. She sat resting one arm above the passenger door handle, her chin braced atop the closed fingers of her hand. Through the window, she could see the endless streams of air traffic: polished skycars, passenger shuttles, blocky cargo freighters, and sleek automated-probes all winding and weaving their way about. Garrus hadn’t spoken to her since leaving the hospital, for which she was grateful. As she gazed through the window, Athena caught her own reflection looking back. She stared a moment and wondered how anyone could look so similar and yet feel so different from mere months before.

At fifteen standard years, Athena T’Soni Shepard resembled both her parents in many ways. She had her mother’s watery blue eyes and the same patch of freckles around her nose. Prominent cheek bones lined her face and rested upon a firm jaw like her father. She was tall for an asari her age and appeared to move with both the natural grace of her own species as well as the restless excitement of her father’s. On the other hand, her blue skin was a shade deeper than her mother’s and much sharper in complexion than either Liara or Shepard. Perhaps most unique to Athena, however, was the solemn expression with which she now faced her surroundings. Although young by human standards, to say nothing of asari, the loss of her homeworld had relentlessly driven into her a grave maturity well beyond her years. Whatever youthful fancies she might have once had were long gone now.

Athena fidgeted slightly as she thought back to the nonstop physical and psychological treatments she had gone through after being admitted to Huerta. They’d helped, but the horrible lingering dread that nothing she did mattered anymore persisted. Until, she reflected, Garrus had started visiting her. Until she’d learned that she would be leaving to stay with him.

She looked over from the window. “What’s your home like?”

Garrus considered. “It depends. I usually split my time between here and Palaven.”

“But we’re going to the one here?” 

“That’s right,” Garrus confirmed. “It’s not bad as Citadel homes go. Maybe a bit lacking in aesthetics, but I don’t think you’ll mind.”

“You don’t like things like that?”

“Well, it’s not really that I don’t like them so much as I just haven’t noticed their absence,” Garrus replied with a sideways smile.

Athena turned back to looking outside. “Probably because you’re too busy ‘calibrating’ things.”

Garrus laughed at the comment. “Where did you hear about that?”

She didn’t reply.

Garrus watched her for a time, then returned his focus to the air lanes.

After a long pause Athena asked, “How long before I start school again?”

“A few weeks,” Garrus answered. “You’ve been enrolled at one of the biotic academies here, Halian Corporeal, I was told. It’s supposed to be among the best on the Citadel.”

Athena rolled her eyes. “Every academy says that.”

“Oh? Been to many have you?” said Garrus in mock surprise.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, learned anything useful so far?”

Athena flexed the fingers on her left hand. A slight ripple of deep blue energy expelled out her palm. “I can warp and push some things. That’s about it though.”

“How about combat training?”

Athena’s mouth tightened. “Yeah, I’ve had it too. It’s-”

But what combat training was Athena never disclosed. The words were cut off as from somewhere above, there came a terrible shrieking noise. Looking up, Athena’s eyes went wide as a glistening blue energy bolt came rocketing towards them through the air. The bolt missed the skycar by inches, but struck the side of a nearby Presidium skyscraper. A roar of flame and shattered metal erupted from the impact, sending shards of debris in all directions.

Garrus reacted instinctively. He whirled the helm controls over nearly a full arc and looped the skycar out from the air lane into a rapid barrel roll. As they leveled out, Garrus suddenly jerked the controls again to the left to avoid colliding head-on with a large cargo carrier. Athena found herself thrown forward in her seat and then flung back all in the span of a few seconds. She tried to speak, but couldn’t find the breath. Garrus spoke instead.

“Oh crap.”

She followed his gaze through the front windshield and saw them. Dozens upon of dozens of stingers. Like a swarm of giant blue hornets, they tore down upon the vast space station, firing indiscriminately. Athena saw several other skyscrapers burst into flame from the blasts. Even from inside the skycar, she could hear the terrible noise the stingers made whenever they fired. Equal parts loud and intimidating, it was a sound all too familiar to her. A chilling cacophony of razor-pitched screeching. She wanted to scream, but out of anger or fear she didn’t know. It couldn’t be happening. Not here too. 

“Crap,” Garrus said again, clenching his jaw. “Hang on!”

Tilting the controls again, he throttled hard on the accelerator. They dived, racing through the countless air lanes, and darted between panicked civilian vehicles. Twice they nearly hit oncoming freighters again, and once grazed the side of a large air taxi so that sparks flew up past Athena’s window. Garrus’s long fingers were hard as steel on the controls. Athena tried to speak again, but was cut off this time by the sound of sirens as several C-Sec shuttles and gunships went blazing past them in the opposite direction.

“About time!” Garrus said, stealing a glance as they passed.

The stingers had succeeded in taking the Citadel by surprise, but the station’s defenders once they’d noticed, were quick to move and now commenced a vicious counterattack. Scores of mounted turrets and defense cannons began lighting up from the tops of buildings. The cluster of C-Sec ships was soon joined by a squadron of silver turian fighters, presumably deployed by the Citadel’s defense fleet. The stingers, which had been firing at random targets before, were forced to shift tactics and engage the new defenders. In a remarkable show of fluidity, they rallied back from their previous assault trajectories into a single moving cluster, poised to meet the reinforcements head on. With trademark discipline, the turian fighters immediately altered their own point of advance. As the gunships moved to hit the stingers’ flanks, the fighters’ angled their approach upwards several meters in an attempt to enclose the enemy. The stingers responded in kind by dropping altitude as one, only to rise up again soon after. The air battle that followed was furious, but Athena hardly noticed it. Frantically, she scanned the skies above the fighting for any sign of the invaders’ mothership. If it was there, none of their efforts mattered. They were all done for. Back and forth she glanced, but saw nothing.

The next moment, her search was interrupted as she was jostled once again by the skycar’s shifting momentum. Garrus had managed to extricate them from the traffic lanes and was soaring between a cluster of smaller buildings near the Presidium’s lower levels. The air space was empty here and the sound of the fighting lowered mercifully to a distant rumble. Garrus pulled up by the entrance to a public lot and maneuvered inside. The lot was largely vacant and no one seemed to be about. They docked in a space just off from the entrance, but Garrus did not kill the engine.

“Are you alright?” He asked quickly.

Athena finally found her voice. “Those things,” her words shook. “They attacked here. They attacked _here_!” Her body was shaking too.

“Hey,” Garrus gently put a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up into his face. Beneath the deep scars and targeting visor, the turian’s dark eyes were full of warmth.

“I _will_ protect you. I promise.”

She saw he meant it. In spite of the pain-filled memories threatening to overtake her, Athena nodded. “I can’t stop shaking.”

“That’s just adrenaline, it’s normal. You hurt anywhere?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good. I think we’ll be safe here until the defense fleet can take care of things.”

“But, the stingers already made it in,” Athena said, unsure. “What if more show up? What if the mothership…” Her voice trailed off.

“I wouldn’t worry just yet,” Garrus said, as he began to punch in something on the skycar’s communication panel. “They pulled off a blitz, sure, but that won’t work again with the entire station on alert now. As for the mothership, well, I doubt there’s any way for something that big to sneak up on here.”

The words made Athena feel a little calmer, but not about the mothership. “It did with Earth,” she pointed out. 

“Hmm, true,” Garrus frowned slightly in concentration. “Either way, I’d say this attack changes a few things. I’m going to try and contact Alenko. See what we can learn.”

“Kaidan Alenko?” Athena remembered Kaidan, although she’d only met him once a few years back.

“That’s right. He got here just this morning to talk with the Council,” Garrus supplied.

Athena leaned forward to look at the comm monitor. “How can he help?”

“With any luck,” said Garrus, “he’ll have an answer to something your father once told me.


	6. Transcendence

It was the most uncomfortable silence Kaidan had ever known. Each of the four councilors stared at him, stone-faced and stiff as boards. Although Sanders’s expression was otherwise neutral, her mouth was taut with uneasiness. Doorin’s normally wide eyes had become little more than slits attempting, not quite successfully, to hide his surprise. Tevos’s typical air of all-knowing benevolence was nowhere to be seen, and Sparatus, in a momentary lapse of professionalism, actually glowered at Kaidan.

Kaidan had expected something to this effect of course and merely stared back with an equal countenance of stoicism. Next to him, Bau was looking from one side of the room to the other with mingled confusion and intrigue.

“Spectre Alenko,” Tevos said finally, “As you are doubtless aware, any public disclosure of information related to spectre assignments other than your own is not permitted. Either from this council or _anyone else_.”

He’d expected that answer too. No matter. He wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“Perhaps given the circumstances, the Council might make an exception.”

“Those ‘circumstances’ being what, exactly?” countered Sparatus, whose jaw had gone so rigid Kaidan was impressed he could articulate at all.

“The circumstances being the source behind my question, this footage Bau's found, and the fact that Earth has been attacked and destroyed,” Kaidan said as resolutely as he could, hoping they would take the bait.

Doorin’s eyes opened back a fraction. “Source? What are you referring-”

“No,” Tevos cut him off. “This topic is not up for debate. Let us return now to the matter at hand.”

 _Damn it_. Kaidan thought. He’d gotten close, but Tevos just had to intervene. He looked over at Bau and raised his eyebrows. _Help me?_

Bau got the message at once. “Apologies, councilors,” he said taking a step forward. “But I would like hear what Alenko has to say about this source of his. If nothing else, it warrants further discussion for security reasons. As for concerns about staying on topic, I suspect that if his query is, as he suggests, related to my own findings, it is therefore also relevant to the primary focus of this meeting.” 

Kaidan hid a smile. Even the Council wasn’t entirely immune to the unwavering astuteness that was salarian diplomacy. He stepped forward too and looked directly at Sanders, willing her to understand. She met his eyes again, but he couldn’t read their expression. _Come on._ He thought imploringly. _You know Shepard. Hell, he saved you during the war. Give this a chance._

Sanders watched him a moment longer, then, “Major Alenko, Spectre Bau, please excuse us a moment.” There came a gentle humming sound as the Council’s podium speakers were muted. Sanders turned to her colleagues and began to talk, although her words and their replies were now beyond earshot.

Kaidan exhaled where he stood. They’d done it. She was on their side. “Thanks,” he muttered to Bau.

“None required,” the salarian replied. “I am as interested as you are. Although,” he added with some reservation, “it’ll be on the both of us now if there’s nothing to go on.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Kaidan said, watching Sanders continue to engage the other councilors. “Didn’t you notice? They didn’t deny the project existed when I asked.”

“They haven’t confirmed it either, but I see your point.”

Across the gap, the councilors appeared to have reached an agreement. The speakers hummed back to life and Tevos addressed them anew. Her tone was as calm as ever, but Kaidan thought he saw something very stern in her eyes.

“The following exchange will not be included in this session’s record. What we are about to discuss concerns information of the highest levels of classification this council allows. Spectre Bau, Spectre Alenko - for the sake of potential connection to your investigation and for reasons of general security, we have decided to grant your request on the basis that you will keep what is said here to yourselves. Disclosure or allusion of any kind to the subject beyond this chamber will result in the immediate revocation of your spectre status. Are we understood?”

“We are, councilors,” said Bau, inclining his head respectfully.

“We are,” Kaidan agreed. _Except,_ he added silently, _for that last part_. Whatever warnings the Council might spout, he’d already made up his mind to tell Garrus everything they said. Spectre status or no, were it not for Garrus, they wouldn’t even be talking about this in the first place.

“Very well,” said Tevos. She nodded to Sanders who took over.

“To get back to your initial question, Major, you’re correct that Commander Shepard was assigned by us to oversee a construction project on Earth. Before we go into detail about the project itself, however, we’d like you to tell us how you learned about it.”

Kaidan explained his meeting with Garrus and recounted everything he’d been told. “The information has to have come directly from Shepard like Garrus said,” he finished. “Garrus isn’t a Spectre - he’d have been less likely to find out about it on his own than I would - but Shepard’s always trusted him and so have I.”

“And Vakarian believes the commander told him what he did out of concern,” Sparatus reflected. “Did he say from what?”

“No,” Kaidan admitted. “Garrus said he thought Shepard’s message and the attack could be connected, but there’s nothing to prove that yet.”

“Perhaps further insight will gained from our hearing about the project itself,” suggested Bau. “Councilors?”

Without replying, Tevos typed something into her terminal. The giant monitor to their right flashed up a new display. Kaidan looked at it and nearly exclaimed aloud in amazement.

The display showed the blueprint for a ship. A ship unlike any that even the wildest, most fantastic realms of Kaidan’s imagination could ever have conceived. Its design was gigantic in scale and almost completely spherical. The entire frame appeared as a massive orb perched atop a set of similarly engorged triple rocket engines. Between these was a fourth, even larger warp engine while at the very top of the sphere was perched a half-domed complex that Kaidan guessed to be the command bridge. Most remarkable of all was that across the main hull were what appeared to be three gigantic circular power ducts. The designs showed their openings on the surface as sealed, but all connected directly back into the ship’s main reactor. Beneath the vast display, a block of text at the very bottom of the screen read:

**Project: Titan**

“This,” said Sanders, “is what Commander Shepard was overseeing.”

“Extraordinary,” Bau was staring transfixed at the screen. “This design is unlike anything I have heard of.”

“For good reason,” said Sparatus. “This ship, the _Titan_ , was a prototype - intended to be the first of many - for a new class of vessel designed around the concept of terraforming.”

Kaidan’s mind staggered. “Terraforming? As in changing a planet’s composition?” He managed to say.

Sanders shook her head. “Not changing, _building_. The _Titan_ was designed to construct new planets out of raw materials alone.”

“And not just any planets,” Doorin added, unable to disguise a note of pride in his voice, “fully habitable garden class worlds.”

The weight of the information was almost too much for Kaidan to process. Shepard hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Garrus this would surpass all previous feats of technology. In the back of his mind, Kaidan recalled when humanity had first discovered mass effect field technology. He’d been born after the event, but had nevertheless grown up witnessing its impact every day during what people now called the “golden age of space exploration.” This was something of that same sort. A discovery that could and would irrevocably propel the beings of this galaxy several steps more than usual down the path of evolution. Just thinking about it made him feel lightheaded.

“The concept for this project was first brought to our attention about ten years past,” Tevos resumed. “The potential benefits such a ship might provide doubtless speak for themselves. Recognizing the significance of the idea, we approved it for construction and assigned Commander Shepard as chief overseer.”

 _Nobody better, that’s for sure_ , Kaidan thought, recalling among the many talents of his old CO a not-inconsiderable penchant for engineering. 

Bau finally managed to tear his gaze from the display. “Who else knows about this?”

“Aside from ourselves and the commander, only the research and construction teams had access,” Sparatus explained. “For security reasons, however, the details of its intended purpose were kept from being entirely disclosed to all but the most senior members. Less than a dozen individuals outside of this room knew the project’s full scope. Most of whom,” he added gravely, “have not been accounted for since the attack.”

“That’s what I’m still not clear on,” said Kaidan. “Why all the secrecy? This technology could benefit just about every species out there, and it sounds like that was the plan anyway. So why cover it up?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” said Bau, glancing at him. “They didn’t want anyone getting hold of this technology and using it independently. Imagine what might occur if the power to make habitable planets fell without safeguard into careless hands? Population control and colonization rights have always been touchy subjects. If those barriers were to suddenly vanish without guidance, things would quickly devolve into a frenzy.”

None of the councilors replied, but to Kaidan their silence was answer enough. Bau spoke again.

“Councilors, you have my sincerest gratitude. Thanks to this disclosure, the pieces in our chain of events begin to fall into place.”

He gave Kaidan a knowing smile then tapped his omni-tool and brought up the video clip once more. This time it appeared as a split screen imposed next to the _Titan_ blueprints. While the footage might have remained a mystery when viewed alone, put together the connection was unmistakable. Doorin’s eyes grew wide again, and Sanders exhaled.

“What we can see: the color of the hull, the rounded surface, the alloys it is crafted from - all match the design. This ship in the footage is the _Titan,_ ” said Bau. “Congratulations, councilors. It appears your project was a success.”

“Spare us the idle praise, Spectre Bau,” Sparatus said impatiently, though it was obvious he too was impressed. “What else can we surmise from this discovery?”

“As of now, the sequence appears thus,” said Tevos. “Construction on the _Titan_ reached completion without our knowledge - or at least to the point where it was space worthy - soon after which the attack occurred. During this, the commander took control of the ship and executed a launch to escape. We know he must then have traveled at least as far as the Artemis Tau cluster where he stored and encrypted this footage. Yet, there are still multiple gaps in this narrative which remain unaccounted for.”

“Then let me propose this,” Kaidan said quickly. “Reassign Bau and myself to see if we can discover the _Titan’s_ whereabouts. If we find it, we find Shepard, and if we find Shepard you’ll get all other your questions answered.” He stepped back and inclined his head as Bau had done earlier, hoping he’d sounded respectful.

The Council considered the pair of them in silence. Their expressions had all become impassive again, even Doorin’s. Kaidan tried to not fidget. Breathing as steadily as he was able, he kept his eyes fixed on the four galactic leaders, waiting.

He’d gotten farther than he’d ever imagined possible on this topic, but felt worried it might prove all for nothing if the Council refused to let him act on it. While they said nothing, Kaidan knew they were still communicating to each other through sideways glances and expressions too subtle to make out from across the gap. It was a common method of theirs; decide whether or not to grant a request and test a party’s resolve under pressure at the same time. Kaidan rightly suspected they would have done this before when he’d initially asked about the Titan if only the nature of his question hadn’t been so sensitive. Now free of that burden, he was sure his demeanor could easily sway their next decision in either direction.

Finally, Tevos spoke their reply. “This proposal is sudden and somewhat unorthodox. Yet, the same and more could be said about the surrounding events which precipitate it. As you are aware, since the attack only a few scattered reports and sightings of the smaller ships are what we have as to the enemy’s whereabouts. Despite what was witnessed that day, we have thus far been operating largely in the dark. Nevertheless, we recognize your collective findings indicate that Commander Shepard and the _Titan_ project may be somehow involved. In light of that truth and the classified knowledge entrusted to you both today-”

She halted suddenly with her speech. Inside the chamber, a high pitched beeping noise had begun. Kaidan started and, looking around, saw red lights flashing in and out on each of the councilors’ podiums. What was happening? Nobody would interrupt the Council mid-session. It would have to be a station-wide emergency to even warrant calling them. And suddenly, Kaidan knew what was going on before the Council had even answered the alert.

Sparatus was the first to check his terminal. He listened for a moment then said tersely, “Ambush. The station’s under attack. It’s them.”

Bau was already flitting through comm channels on his omni-tool. “They’ve managed to evade the outer defense fleets? Councilors, we should get you of here.” As he spoke, there came a deep rumble from somewhere beyond the chamber walls.

“C-Sec’ll be moving to stop them,” said Kaidan, turning for the chamber’s exit. “I’d better help. Bau, you okay to get the Council to safety?”

“Yes of course, I’ll come join you once I’m done.”

“Major!” Sanders called as Kaidan began to dash out. He stopped and looked back at her. “Do everything you can to capture one. I want to know what these things are.”


	7. Second Reminiscence

** Alliance News Network Archives **

**Broadcast Transcript #01262010. Original Air Date - 05/01/2188**

**Diana Allers** : _Hello and welcome to another edition of “Battle Space in Retrospect.” I’m Diana Allers for Alliance News, today bringing you an exclusive interview with two members from the renowned Normandy crew. With me here are Garrus Vakarian and Tali Zorah Vas Uma._

**Garrus Vakarian** : _No need to sell yourself short, Allers. You were just as much a part of the crew as we were._

**Tali Zorah Vas Uma** : _But thank you for having us. It’s good to see you again._

**Diana** : _It’s been a while now, hasn’t it? To start off, I’m sure our viewers would like to hear what you’ve both been up to._

**Garrus** : _Of course. You know I once joked to Shepard right before the war’s end that if we won we’d all retire to somewhere sunny and live off the vid royalties? Well, let’s just say that didn’t happen._

**Tali** : _It’s been a lot of meetings, construction and recovery projects, things of that sort. I’ve mostly been coordinating rescue operations in the Attican Traverse._

**Diana** : _What about on Rannoch?_

**Tali** : _Recolonization efforts are underway, but honestly there’s no hurry. My people went without a home for so long that even after getting it back we’re still inclined to be in space. For now at least. Plus we owe it to the rest of the galaxy, and especially humanity, to help out as much as we can._

**Garrus** : _You know it wasn’t only humans that helped you get back your home world right?_

**Tali** : _I suppose there might have been a turian in there somewhere. It’s hard to remember, but I think he was somebody who liked to calibrate things._

**Diana** : _Garrus?_

**Garrus** : _No comment._

**Diana** : So, what have you been up to?

**Garrus** : _Some of the same. You’ve probably heard about my helping Primarch Victus oversee restoration on Palaven. It hasn’t been easy going through all the leftover devastation - Palaven was one of the worlds that got hit hardest - but, it’s not been all bad._

**Diana** : _How so?_

**Garrus** : _Before the war broke out, I was in charge of a task force that was working to prepare for the Reapers in advance. This was back when a lot of the galaxy was still skeptical about the Reapers as a threat. Anyway, despite the limited support we had, my team and I still managed a fair bit. We tightened up communications, improved our long range threat detection and even expanded stockpiles across several of our largest colonies. After the war began there was no way to know how much these had helped, or even if they’d helped at all. But now going back through everything…_

**Diana** : _They did help?_

**Garrus** : _They saved lives. Not everybody, but for the ones we did save, especially those who’ve since told me how our preparations helped them survive, it’s been incredible._

**Tali** : _You did everything you could. They know it and so do I._

**Garrus** : _Thanks Tali._

**Diana** : _You both have a lot to be proud of. I think I speak for most when I say this galaxy owes just as much to you two as it does to Commander Shepard._

**Tali** : _Thank you, but…_

**Garrus** : _I don’t know if I’d go that far._

**Tali** : _And we shouldn’t ignore the rest of the Normandy either: Liara, Kaidan, James, Edi, Javik and everyone else. We all played an important part._

**Garrus** : _I think it’s too early for praises anyway. I know that for a lot of people this war already seems like just a bad dream, but the truth is there’s still a lot left to be done._

**Tali** : _You’re not feeling anxious about the future, are you?_

**Garrus** : _Oh no, it’s just you’d think that after breaking a galaxy wide cycle of extinction we’d have earned at least a few vacation days. That’s all._


	8. Assertion

Kaidan sped back down the stairway. Dread and frustration boiled inside him as his feet pounded. So close. He had been seconds away from getting approval to search for the _Titan_. For Shepard. But now it looked like all of that would have to wait, assuming the Council would even be of the same view later. _Three months after Earth, and these enemies, whatever they are, choose_ now _to show themselves? And why the Citadel?_ He quickened his pace, trying to keep his breathing in rhythm. There was never any time.

Rather than making for the elevator, upon reaching the entrance hall Kaidan turned right towards an emergency exit he knew led out to a flight pad. The two C-Sec guards previously marking the stairway were nowhere to be seen. They’d probably left to help, but their absence still irritated him. He was going to have to flag down a shuttle on his own. Using his spectre codes, he opened the exit door and ran through.

The bright light of the presidium nearly blinded him after the cozy hues of the tower. Air whistled defiantly around his ears as he strained his eyes trying to see. What looked to be at least three dozen stingers were concentrated several kilometers away to his left. As Bau had reported, they had seemingly bypassed the station’s outer defenses and were attacking the presidium indiscriminately. Clouds of smoke were already billowing up from the vicinity. Kaidan opened a comm channel on his omni-tool.

“This is spectre Kaidan Alenko. Does anyone from C-Sec copy? I need a pick-up headed to the battle site. Sending coordinates.” He paused then repeated the call again. After an agonizing thirty seconds of silence, a reply sounded.

“We read you, spectre. This is C-Sec shuttle, DK-971. We’re headed your way. Stand by for extraction.”

“Copy that,” Kaidan said, relieved. 

The armored security shuttle pulled up soon after and Kaidan was helped aboard by a female turian wearing a dark blue uniform the same color as the vehicle. “Lieutenant Nora Tracton, C-Sec patrol,” she said in greeting.

“Kaidan Alenko, Special Tactics and Recon,” he answered. “How many other responders so far?”

Nora bumped the back of the shuttle pilot’s chair with her elbow signaling they were ready. The floor gave a lurch and the shuttle resumed its headway towards the battle. “Last count was twelve of ours on site with more on the way, not counting ground resistance. The nearest defense fleet cruiser said they were sending down a fighter squadron, but no sign of them yet.” She eyed Kaidan inquisitively. “What’s your angle with this?”

Kaiden hesitated. He wasn’t keen on explaining with so little time before entering the fight. “Council business.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “Have it your way.” She glanced at the shuttle’s pilot, a bald headed man with thick eyebrows, “ETA, Hoffman?”

“Two minutes,” the pilot replied. Kaidan thought he sounded tense.

“Alright,” Nora addressed the remaining shuttle occupants, a six person squad composed of three humans, two turians, and a salarian. “Davis, McConnell you stay aboard and work the turrets. The rest of you, hold fast until we’ve got a drop zone located. Once you’re out, link up with the ground defenses and assist however you can. Keep radio chatter tight and don’t look to me to confirm every thing. Janus,” she said to one of the turians, “you’re in charge once you exit.” Satisfied, Nora turned back to Kaidan, “You getting off or staying on?”

“Staying on.”

“Thirty seconds,” the pilot, Hoffman, called from up front. “Good luck!”

The shuttle doors slid open on either side. Immediately after, two heavy swivel turrets rose up at the centers of the now open doorways and assembled automatically to face outside. Air bellowed around them as the shuttle continued to race forward. Davis, a dark-skinned man in his late twenties, took up a ready position at one of the turrets while McConnell, who was taller and more grizzled looking, moved behind the second. Nora and the remaining officers clustered to the corners of the cabin, holding on tightly to the hand rails. Kaidan, who’d taken a seat, pulled down the safety harness. He tugged at it just to be safe. Seconds later, they had entered the fray.

The first thing Kaidan noticed was the noise. Turret and gunship blasts sounded out freely and filled the air with a chaotic tumult of bangs, trills, and pops. Even with the shuttle’s inertial dampeners, Kaidan could feel his seat rattling. But that was nothing compared to the stingers. Never before in his life had he heard a sound so unnerving. Each time one fired, it gave off a pulsating screech that made Kaidan’s hair stand on end. Once again from the dark corners of his memory, he recalled the cries of the Reapers from sixteen years ago. The giant capitol ships had often produced a brazen, rumbling noise that sounded like a thousand French horns all off-key. It had been intimidating and even demoralizing, but outright chilling? Not quite. Then, he remembered the Reaper banshees. They had been chilling. Between their grotesque visage and the terrifying wails they made that seemed to echo off anything, they were the closest he could recall to what faced him now. And yet, in the midst of this new foe, even they seemed somehow lesser. Why? Was it the time that had passed since the war’s end? Was it the fear of knowing the power that lay behind these things after seeing Earth? Or was it simply their sound alone? It was as if light itself was being made to scream in agony. Kaidan strained in his seat.

C-Sec gunships and stingers alike zipped past the open doors, all furiously engaged with one another. Hoffman pulled the shuttle through several abrupt maneuvers that made Kaidan grateful for the safety harness. Davis and McConnell had opened fire on their turrets the instant they’d entered the fight and were now delivering a steady stream of bolts on either side. They struck home more than once, spitting up clusters of bluer sparks as the stingers whizzed past through the melee. On the other hand, the stingers were likewise doing plenty of damage to the gunships. Kaidan saw several trailing smoke and heard the cries of desperate pilots over the cockpit radio. The ground team members were bracing themselves as best they could behind the doorways and Nora was constantly glancing back and forth between the open doors and the navigation scanners.

“We need a landing site!” She barked at Hoffman.

“Yes Ma’am, I might have one!” he called back “Coming up, point three-ten!”

“I see it,” said Nora, checking the display. “That’s the Plenix Tower. Do it.”

The shuttle tilted sharply and began curving over to the left. They were flying tightly now in between the endless sea of Presidium skyscrapers. Kaidan saw civilian skycars fleeing the upper airways soar down past them. With a jolt he suddenly remembered Garrus and Athena, who had to be with him by now. Were they alright? Had they been near the ambush? Kaidan tried to orient himself. Huerta Memorial Hospital, as he recalled, was a ways off to the south from Plenix Tower, but not enough for comfort. He’d have to call Garrus as soon as things were under control here.

The shuttle slowed as Hoffman brought them down to within a few yards of the tower rooftop. Looking out the doors, Kaidan saw the area was already full of ground forces ranging from other C-Sec officers to emergency medical staff and civilian militia, all scrambling to keep the heavy defense canons at the tower’s edges operational. At a word from Nora, the four officers jumped out and Hoffman fired up the engines again at once.

Seeing how fast the forces on site were moving reassured Kaidan a little. He was glad that even after more than a decade, the hard lessons learned from the last attack on the Citadel had not been neglected. Following an attempted coup back in 2186 by Councilor Sanders’s predecessor and the now defunct Cerberus organization, Citadel security and defenses had undergone a massive restructure. C-Sec recruitment, long excoriated for being overly selective towards turians, had at last opened its doors to take on new hires from any and all species willing. In addition, a civilian militia had been established and quickly gained station-wide momentum for its frequent training and patrols. To top it off, scores of heavy turrets and defense canons had been installed into the tops of the buildings all around the station as a means of quick protection against invading ships. Galactic businesses, being the way they were, had taken to competing with each other for the superior defensive outfitting of their respective office hubs. Although the majority of these changes had seen little use so far, the impact left by the coup, as well as the war overall, was still fresh enough that much had been kept ready and active. Today, the time had come.

The shuttle shot back up towards the center of the battle and was soon flanked on either side by two more. The fire around them thickened. Hoffman was doing his best to maneuver, but the stingers’ blasts seemed to be missing by less each time. Peering out the doorway that McConnell was shooting from, Kaidan saw one of the flanking gunships suddenly split apart from the center. A balloon of flames rose and engulfed the remainder of the craft as two more stinger blasts made impact along its rear. The gunship sagged in the air, then plummeted helplessly downwards.

“Christ,” grunted McConnell through clenched teeth. “What the hell are these things?”

“Keep firing!” Nora ordered. She shot a glance at Kaidan. “The Council order you to just sit there or what?”

Kaidan ignored her. Within his solemn but resolute mind he was working steadily to analyze the stingers’ capabilities and tactics. To capture one intact, he’d need as much insight as possible and the attack he’d just witnessed raised an interesting query. To cause destruction of that level on a C-Sec gunship would take either knowledge of the craft’s internal structure or a weapon strong enough to ignore its defenses outright. _No way it’s the former,_ he reasoned. The blasts on the shuttle had all struck at different points, none of which were structurally vulnerable by design. That left only the latter. He thought back to what he’d shared with the Council from his report.

_The mothership weapon’s not eezo based, but it does resemble the discharges from White Dwarf stars. And the stingers’ energy signatures all match it perfectly._

Was it possible that’s what they were firing? Pure, raw plasma energy? It was certainly powerful enough.

Kaidan unstrapped his harness and stood, taking hold of the now unoccupied handrails to keep steady. “Lieutenant, do we have incendiary rounds on here?”

Nora looked taken aback. “Only for hand-held arms,” she answered. “Why?”

“I’ve got an idea, just need to test it,” Kaidan drew out his Alliance assault rifle “Help me if you can.”

Nora moved over to where he stood. “What are we testing?” She said, pulling out her own weapon and a handful of thermal clips.

“Heat.” Kaidan engaged the ammo modification on his rifle. “If my guess is right, it could help bring these things down a lot faster.” He cocked the rifle and took aim out the door. A stinger soon entered his sights. He fired. The incendiary rounds streamed through the air and struck the stinger at the base of its bulkhead. The surface flared up as the rounds burned into the hull, causing it disintegrate.

“Ha!” laughed Nora, “Not bad.” She took aim too and fired another incendiary burst at the stinger’s rear. The rounds impacted against the pincer-like struts and burned clean through one of them. The sudden imbalance of weight caused the stinger to go lopsided and, an instant later, collide into another. The pair exploded into a dazzling blaze of electric-blue light.

“Yes!” Davis yelled, while McConnell clapped Kaidan on the shoulder appreciatively. “Take that, goddamn blue crabs!”

“Hoffman, get the word out to the ground forces. Say it’s on spectre authority if anyone gets punchy with you,” Nora directed. She eyed Kaidan with new respect. “Thanks. We might pull through now.”

Kaidan smiled faintly. They might.

“Ma’am,” Hoffman called suddenly, “Got a salarian trying to reach you on the comm. Says he’s a spectre.”

Kaidan looked over. “Patch him through, it’ll be for me.” Seconds later, Bau’s voice sounded over his radio.

“Alenko! Are you there? Please respond!”

“I hear you!” Kaidan said back. Bau’s voice was barely audible above the din. “What’s your position?”

“I’m with the ground forces on the Enkindler Memorial building,” came the reply. “I caught a shuttle over here, but we took a hit and had to land. Where are you?”

“I got a shuttle too, I’m still aboard. You’ll have to lock onto my personal transponder, it’s pretty messy up here.”

“It’s messy all over!” Bau declared. “We’ve got wounded, debris, and arial bombardments all happening at once! I’ve relayed our situation to the turian fighters that were dispatched. They should be here any second.”

“Good,” Kaidan said, relieved at the news. “What about the Council?”

“All safe. Councilor Sanders said to inform you her request still stands.”

“I haven’t forgotten, but we’re not going to capture anything in this chaos. We have to get the fight under control first.”

“Agreed,” said Bau. “There’ve been no signs of enemy reinforcements. Keep the pressure up and thin out their ranks. I’ll be in touch.” The comm channel clicked off.

“Did I hear right?” said Nora as Kaidan resumed his firing position. “You want to capture one of those things?”

Kaidan exhaled as slowly as he could. He’d hoped they hadn’t been listening. Still, the Lieutenant had been helpful towards him so far. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m doing it one way or another. Tell you what though, if you help me I’ll make sure you get access to its containment.”

Nora raised one of her coarse eyebrows. “Seriously? You just doubled my chances of promotion.”

A roar in the air made them both look around. Twenty turian fighters were racing towards the battle. Their gleaming hulls, coated in a silver polish, seemed to project the collective pride and discipline characteristic of their owners. As they sped through the air, the formation didn’t stutter once.

“Finally!” said Nora, sounding more judgmental than relieved.

Hoffman shifted course out of the main area of fire. Kaidan watched as the turians closed in, wondering how the stingers would respond. He didn’t have to wait long. With a startling proficiency the remaining attackers rallied back from their points of engagement to reform their initial bombardment cluster. Even as the turians came upon them, they were ready at full strength. The turians, however, not looking to be outdone in tactical maneuvers had apparently come ready with a plan of their own. Instead of maintaining the head-on charge, the fighters raced suddenly upwards at the last instant into an arc-shaped trajectory above the stingers. As they did so, a torrent of incendiary blasts rained down upon the enemy while the C-Sec shuttles continued to pepper their flanks.

It had only lasted a few frantic seconds, however, when the stingers unexpectedly changed tactics again. All together, it seemed, the glistening blue ships dropped down through the air, out of the main fire zone, whereupon they broke their cluster formation and zipped out past the defending ships’ flanks from underneath. But it didn’t stop there. Within moments, the stingers had regrouped and were now advancing back at the defenders from both sides in what was unmistakably a pincer attack.

Kaidan blinked in astonishment. He’d never seen ships with that level of coordination in his life. It was almost like they were aware of each others’ thoughts. How? Was it a species with telepathic abilities? Or some unknown form of communications technology? A synthetic species controlled by AI?

 _Focus!_ He shook his head angrily. The battle wasn’t over yet.

The stingers had regained the initiative and were pressing their advantage. Three turian fighters had already gone down and the number of remaining C-Sec shuttles was getting dangerously low. Nora had passed out additional ammo mods to McConnell and Davis, who were both still firing furiously. Yet, despite their own losses, the stingers’ tenacity seemed undaunted. They whizzed and darted about, pelting everything they could with their shrieking blasts.

Then from somewhere far above, there came a bang that sent every one of the shuttle’s occupants grabbing for the safety rails. A sound like a house being run over boomed out, followed by a flash of yellow light. Kaidan felt the shuttle speed up in the air and knew they were racing away from the fight.

“What’s happening?” Nora managed to yell above the noise.

For reply, Hoffman jabbed a finger at the scanner’s display. Kaidan and Nora both peered at it. Two turian dreadnoughts had appeared on the scene.

Kaidan breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t expected any major vessels in the defense fleet to respond this fast. Most kept to the station’s outer skies for patrol and perimeter protection. Whatever the case, it didn’t matter. They were saved.

The dreadnoughts were bristling with heavy weaponry, all of which was aimed at the stingers. Massive thaix canon and missile blasts rattled the air and skyscrapers alike as volley after volley was unleashed upon the enemy. Stingers began to explode all over. The turian fighters, having retreated to a safe distance, now formed an enclosing formation as they and the few C-Sec vehicles still airborne worked to contain any stragglers trying to break away from the fire zone. As the battle neared conclusion, Kaidan saw his chance. A lone stinger flew in their direction, desperately trying to escape the circle of destruction. Holstering his weapon, Kaidan stepped right up to the edge of the door and raised a hand to his chest, clenching his fist as he did so.

“What are you doing?” Nora asked.

With his other hand, Kaidan pointed at the stinger. “This one. I’m going to try and trap it with a singularity field.” His closed fist began to glow a dark iridescent blue as he spoke.

“You’re a biotic?” Nora said looking at his hand with interest. “Yeah, that might work. How long can you hold it for?”

“Not long,” Kaidan admitted. “It is a whole ship. I’ll have to land it quickly and somewhere that we can keep it trapped.”

Nora scanned the Presidium. “What about that skycar lot?” She pointed to a rooftop space, enclosed within a towering wall of what looked like pure gold. “That’s the VIP lot for the Khan Hotel. It’ll have its own security systems.”

There was no time to debate. Kaidan called to Hoffman, “Tell Bau our plan. Have him meet us down there with as much back up as possible. Hurry!” He looked out the door, resigned. “Here goes.”

The glow from his fist increased and began to trail between his fingers like blue fire. Kaidan tightened his hand and closed his eyes, concentrating. His archaic L-2 implants gave a slight twinge as he felt the biotic energy building inside him. Opening his eyes, he saw the stinger approaching and, with a snapping motion, flailed his hand towards it. The ball of biotic energy hurled away from his now outstretched fingers, right towards the stinger, where it expanded to form a gigantic bubble surrounding the ship. The stinger jerked to a halt in the air, tilted, and was still.

“Damn,” Nora breathed.

Kaidan was already starting to feel lightheaded from the effort. “Land, now,” he said through gritted teeth.

As gingerly as he could, Hoffman brought the shuttle into a descent pattern above the hotel’s lot, Kaidan pulling the captured stinger behind them like some enormous webbed-up insect. As they touched down three other C-Sec shuttles appeared in the space above. From the open doorway on one Kaidan saw Bau waving at him. Aboard the rest several other C-Sec biotics sent out containment fields of their own to further entrap the stinger. As their fields mixed with his own, Kaidan felt the strain. Exhausted, he released his hold on the ship and sank to the floor. As other the shuttles landed, additional personnel raced out to deploy a makeshift quarantine around the stinger. Davis, Hoffman and McConnell jumped out too, but Nora hung back.

“Thanks,” she said holding out a hand to Kaidan. “I mean it.”

Tired as he was, Kaidan managed a smile. “Don’t mention it.” He took the hand and she helped him to his feet. “You were pretty good yourself.”

She returned the smile. “Don’t forget you still owe me a pass to that thing once it’s secured.”

As they stepped down from the shuttle, Kaidan heard someone calling his name. “Alenko! Over here!” Bau was coming towards them, looking frantic with excitement.

Nora tipped him a nod and moved off.

“Did you see it?” Bau said as he reached Kaidan.

“What?” Kaidan said, confused.

“The maneuver!” said Bau, “The group maneuver they used to form the pincer attack!”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“It should not be possible!” Bau declared. “To devise a maneuver that complex on the fly, not to mention among so many ships and in so small a timeframe. Even with our most advanced VIs, such an attempt would almost certainly be overflowing with errors, _but they executed it flawlessly._ ”

Kaidan was too tired to analyze further. “What does it mean?”

“I wish I knew.” Bau looked wary. “Whatever the reason, we won’t know more until we’ve examined your capture. Shall we?”

“You go ahead,” said Kaidan. “I need to check something.”

He moved back to where the shuttle was and sat down in the doorway. Preparing to call Garrus, he opened his omni-tool and found to his surprise that it was already ringing.


	9. Elusion

On the skycar’s small rectangular display, Kaidan’s face flickered into view.

“Alenko!” Garrus said with relief. “You alright?”

Kaidan shook his head impatiently. He looked older and more haggard from the last time Athena had seen him. “Never mind me, are _you_ okay? Is Athena-?”

“Yeah, she’s right here. We’re both fine,” said Garrus quickly.

Athena leaned over in her seat so Kaidan could see her on the screen.

After everything that had happened, seeing Liara and Shepard’s daughter safe was all it took to change Kaidan’s fatigued expression to one of joy. “Hi there,” he said. “Gosh, you look so grown up.”

“Hey.” She smiled back awkwardly.

Kaidan looked back to Garrus. “Were you near the attack?”

Garrus laughed. “Near? We were practically at its damn point of origin. Sorry,” he added to Athena.

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fifteen, Garrus. I know worse ones than that.”

“Right, well as I was saying we had a pretty close view of what was going on right up until those turian fighters arrived. That’s when we managed to get away. What happened next?”

“The turians took over the counter attack and C-Sec tried a perimeter to contain the fighting,” Kaidan supplied. “The stingers were tough though. They were holding on, but then two dreadnoughts from the defense fleet showed up. After that it was over in minutes. The station’s safe now.”

“No reinforcements?”

“None yet.”

Garrus fidgeted with one of the controls. “That’s strange. Why so few? Those things aren’t stupid. They must have known they’d be outmatched.”

“I have no clue,” Kaidan said. “We did manage to capture one before the fight was over though. Bau’s setting up the quarantine now.”

“Where is it?” Athena asked

Kaidan panned his omni-tool’s viewer over to the side. The captured stinger encased in the containment fields appeared slightly jagged and fuzzy on the screen. “Right over there.”

Athena felt her fists clench. “I hate it,” she said quietly. “I hate them all.”

Garrus glanced at her solemnly. “Nice work,” he said to Kaidan. “Hope you can learn something from it.”

“That’s the plan, but listen Garrus.” Kaidan leaned in towards the screen so that only his eyes and forehead were visible, but his voice just above a whisper remained audible. “You were right about Shepard. It’s all true. The Council told me everything.”

Garrus sat in stunned silence as Kaidan explained about the Titan project and what he had learned that morning. Athena said nothing either, but as Kaidan spoke, Garrus noticed a tear running down her face. He put his hand on her shoulder again, and she covered it gratefully with her own hands, crying silently.

When Kaidan had finished, Garrus said slowly, “So this ship, the _Titan_ , is out there somewhere. Are you going to look for it?”

Kaidan sighed. “No, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Garrus looked puzzled. “You’re a spectre and someone close to Shepard. That should be plenty for the Council.”

“I know,” Kaidan said heavily. “Believe me, I want to more than anything, but I don’t think the Council will allow it now. They’re going to want me around for the investigation of the stinger.” 

Garrus was not swayed. “Then get Bau to do it. Or another spectre, somebody,” he said flatly.

“Bau can’t either,” said Kaidan. “We’re the only spectres here right now. No one else even knows about the _Titan_.”

“So go anyway!” said Garrus, finally showing his frustration. “Screw the Council if you have to. Kaidan, this is too important!”

Kaidan lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry Garrus, but going rogue here isn’t the answer. I was never the rule breaker you were, you know that. I’m risking my spectre status as it is just telling you about the _Titan_.”

“Then let _us_ go.” It was Athena.

Garrus looked at her. She was sitting up in her seat. Half-dried tears glistened on her face, but her eyes were set and filled with a steadfast resolution that Garrus recognized only too well.

“We’ll find it,” she said again. “Me and Garrus - we’ll find the _Titan_.”

Kaidan stared too, but shook his head almost immediately. “Athena, this isn’t something you can take on. The _Titan_ could be anywhere for all we know.”

“I don’t care!” Athena said, voice rising. “Garrus is right, someone has to look for it and if you won’t do it then I will!”

Kaidan looked grave. “I’m only thinking about your safety. There’s no reason for either of you to put yourselves in more danger.” He glanced imploringly at Garrus. “Right?”

Garrus was silent a moment. “My role is to protect you,” he said to Athena. “But, there’s nothing in the paperwork that says I can only do so from one location. If you’re really set on this,” he nodded.

She smiled at him.

“Garrus!” Kaidan said incredulously. “What are you doing?”

“Look,” Garrus said, “We just escaped an invasion in the middle of the _presidium_. Think about that. If it’s not safe here, we don’t have many alternatives.”

Kaidan frowned. “If you’re just looking for an excuse to get off the Citadel, god knows I understand, but-”

“If anyone’s got a right to search for that ship, it’s Athena,” Garrus continued adamantly. “And if Shepard’s alive, I know you want him found just as much as we do.”

Kaidan’s frown deepened for a moment, but then he gave a sigh of defeat. “I do. Fine. I doubt I could stop you even if I wanted to.” From off-screen, someone called Kaidan’s name. “I’d better go,” he said quickly. “If you’re going to do this, just watch yourselves okay?”

Garrus nodded. “We will.”

“Start your search at Therum in the Artemis Tau cluster,” Kaidan added. “It’s no coincidence that was the planet where Shepard left those vid files. I think there could be something else Bau missed. Good luck.” He raised a hand and the screen went dark.

Garrus leaned back in his seat and drew a deep breath. “Well, here we go again." 

Athena watched him gather his thoughts.

“Right,” he continued. “I know I said it’s not safe here, but if we’re going to do this, there’s no hiding the fact that it’ll be risky. Maybe even dangerous. You understand right?”

“Yes,” said Athena.

“I promised I’d protect you and I will, but that doesn’t mean I can prevent everything that might happen.”

“I know.” Athena looked away. “Garrus-” she began, but stopped.

Garrus waited.

“I’ve seen things,” she finished, still not meeting his eyes. “On Earth. I’m not just trying to sound brave. I’ve _felt_ fear.” Her voice trembled slightly.

Garrus watched her, unblinking. “Yeah, you have. It’s why I’m asking. Are you really sure you want to go out there, into all that again?”

Athena finally met his gaze. “I want to find the _Titan_ , and…I want to find my father. That’s it.”

Garrus considered her a moment longer. Then he pressed the control panel. With a rumble, the skycar rose back into the air.

“We’re going to need a ship.”

***

Despite its namesake, the _Phoenix_ appeared closer to a vessel at the end of its life than one reborn. Pulling away the tarp covering it revealed the outer hull to be scuffed and chipped in places and the paint so faded that it was difficult to tell which color it was supposed to be. The design was unusual too. The hull was cone-shaped like a torpedo with a cockpit shield bulging out the top of the nose end and two short trapezoidal wings set in at the sides. The back half of the hull was wider and encasing its rear was a thick ring-like structure with two much larger wings coming out its sides. The two halves were divided by means of an inlaid metallic band circling around. This suggested that, when airborne, the front section could rotate on its axis independently of the back, allowing for a greater variety of angle during flight. At the moment, however, the band was rusted in several places and all four wings were caked with dust.

They’d arrived at the ship’s location, a half-forgotten vehicle lot in the lower wards, after making a brief stop at Garrus’s apartment for supplies. Both of them now bore traveling packs, and Garrus was also carrying a thick gray duffle bag. Setting this down, he climbed up a series of footholds in the side of the ship and twisted something at the top. The ship made an awkward chugging sound and a hatch in the roof slid open.

Athena stared skeptically. “This is yours? It looks ancient.”

“Technically speaking, it’s not mine,” said Garrus with another one of his sideways glances as he came down to retrieve the duffle bag. “It belongs to an old friend.”

“So, we’re stealing it?” Athena asked, following as Garrus climbed back up.

“Oh no. He’s always saying I’m welcome to fly it anytime I want. I’m simply taking him up on the offer.”

“Without telling him?”

“Exactly.” Garrus lowered himself through the hatch and motioned for Athena to follow.

She clambered after him down a gritty entrance ladder and into the small compartment below. The inside of the ship was little better than its surface. The space was cramped and musty with pieces of unidentifiable junk scattered around the discolored floor. On either side of the ladder extended a corridor, to the front cockpit at one end and a small cabin at the other. The stuffiness of the air made Athena cough loudly.

“Is this the only ship we can use?”

“I know it’s far from ideal,” Garrus said apologetically. “But if we’re looking to travel inconspicuously this is all we’ve got.” He then added with a trace of embarrassment, “I honestly haven’t needed a ship of my own for a while now. Most of the time it’s been others who’ve flown me. Nice and all until of course something serious actually happens.” He inspected the corridor’s light panels, several of which were flickering uneasily. “It’s not all bad though. I can probably fix up some of this.”

“Who’s the friend it belongs to?” Athena asked as they headed forward into the cockpit.

Garrus got into the pilot’s chair, and Athena sat down next to him in the navigator’s seat. “Whoever owned the ship originally, I don’t know, but it was given as part of a payment to my old squad-mate, Wrex, back when he was still working as a mercenary.”

“Wrex?” said Athena, suddenly excited. “This is his?”

“That’s right,” Garrus replied. “Sounds like you’ve met him. That krogan and I go back just as far as he does with your family.”

“I have met him! I’d always wanted to ever since my m-…mother mentioned him.” Her voice faltered.

“Wrex showed me this ship years ago,” said Garrus, trying to cheer her up. “He said that ever since becoming leader of the krogan, he hasn’t been able to make it down anymore to the parts of the Citadel where things like this are kept. So, if I was ever ‘in deep,’ as he’d say, I could use it.”

Athena eyed the controls warily as Garrus began to switch on the power. More lights flickered and sputtering sounds came up from the panels, but nevertheless the ship warmed to life and began ascending once Garrus activated the thrusters.

“I wasn’t sure it could fly,” Athena admitted, watching dust blow off the windshield.

“As old as it is, I’m not sure it’s actually flown much,” Garrus reflected. “Wrex also mentioned somebody lived in this ship for a while before he got it. Just lived in it like a house, didn’t fly.” He shrugged. “Whatever the history it’s ours now. You ready to head for Therum?”

Athena hesitated. “I guess this means I won’t be going to that academy,” she said a little wistfully.

“Well,” Garrus replied, “You never know. We might search for days only to find out the _Titan_ was just one system over from the Citadel to begin with. I’ve seen things turn out that way before.”

Athena shot a him quizzical look. “Did that happen when you were with my father?”

Garrus thought a moment. “Put it this way,” he said. “I followed your father into at least a dozen situations most people today would consider scientifically impossible. That should give you some idea about our time together.”

For the first time since leaving the hospital, Athena felt herself laugh. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

With a flare of engines, the _Phoenix_ soared up through the Citadel and over its luminous skyline. Before long they reached the edge of one of the station’s vast arms extending out from the presidium ring.

Peering from her side of the cockpit, Athena could see the entire space station spread out behind them, massive and majestic against the bright light of the Serpent Nebula where it rested. As tragic as her reasons were for coming there, the Citadel had still managed to be a place of safety for her during a time when there was nowhere else.

But not anymore. She turned away and watched Garrus work the controls. It was just the two of them now heading into the unknown. As they drew near the Citadel’s mass relay, she wondered if her life would ever truly be the same again. Was the normalcy she’d felt for an instant back in the skycar a lie? Or had it merely been taken away from her again by the return of the stingers?

From within the relay’s churning eezo core, a jagged energy bolt shot out and connected with the ship. Propelled into warp by the power of the colossal transit gate, the blackness of space vanished around them and the _Phoenix_ raced forward through an ethereal vortex of deep, tranquil color and light.


	10. Relic

The journey to Therum took several hours. Time which Garrus mostly spent patching up the lights and control systems as best he could. While he did so, Athena attempted to clean out the main cabin and cargo hold of litter. She quickly lost count of how many times she’d pulled the “space dump” lever and, upon opening the door to the ship’s lavatory, wished ardently that she’d put on a breath mask first.

The solitary cabin to the rear of the craft appeared cramped even after cleaning it out. There was a single chair and plexiglass table with a built-in terminal to the left of the door, and a bunkbed with metal railings on the right. At the back of the room was a plain looking kitchenette along with a handful of cupboards and storage lockers set in around it. Opening these, Athena found a few non-perishable items that might still be eatable, but little in the way of cooking gear or cutlery. She wondered who exactly had lived here before and whether or not looters might have stopped by during its long abandonment on the Citadel.

After determining the space was as tidy as could be managed for now, she sat down at the table to see if the terminal still worked. It did. After a minute’s booting, the screen flashed up and informed her that the terminal’s Extranet connection was still active as well. Unsure of what to check, Athena stared absently at the home screen for a while before typing into the search engine:

_/Earth news_

Scores of articles and vids depicting the destruction of the planet flashed up. In distress, she closed the Extranet window and shut off the terminal. Her face tightened trying to hold back tears. What had she been expecting? The galaxy would probably be talking about that day as if it had just happened for years.

_But_ w _hy though?_ she thought. There was nothing more to be said. Earth was gone and so was everyone she knew who’d lived there.

_Everyone._

She booted the terminal back up and typed in another search:

_/Commander Shepard recent news_.

No vids this time, but plenty of images and stories, though mostly older ones from before the attack. She scanned the results with care and bit her lip as she scrolled past one of the few contemporary articles - a summary piece with the headline:

_Commander Shepard - KIA or MIA?_

It was true her father hadn’t been confirmed among the dead since the attack, and despite his reputation, no one seemed to know anything other than rumors as to his fate. Officials on the Citadel had hoped Athena might know something, but she had been just as much in the dark as they were. Time and again she’d explained bitterly that she hadn’t seen her father since the morning of the day before and had no idea where he might have been when the attack happened. She hadn’t told Garrus this yet, but thought he might have guessed it on his own anyway. Now though, with what Kaidan had told them…

Athena closed out of the terminal again. She’d never imagined _this_ is what her father had been spending so much time working on. It amazed her, but also caused her to miss him all the more. Feeling suddenly tired, she stood and made her way over to the bunkbed.

_The Titan_.

It sounded incredible, but still secondary to the thought that her father might still be out there; waiting for her and Garrus to find him. Athena slowly lay down on the lower bunk and stared at the cabin’s blank wall. She wanted to believe it. Through the looming menace of the stingers, it was the only light she could see.

***

Some time later she woke and, feeling rested, went to find Garrus. He was back in the cockpit and seemed more or less satisfied with the repairs he’d made. The flickering from the interior light panels had ceased, and though the controls remained as dilapidated looking in appearance as before, they were at least no longer sputtering.

“Sleep well?” Garrus asked as Athena sat back down in the navigator’s seat.

“A little. Are we almost there?” 

“Just about,” said Garrus checking the scanner display. “We should be exiting this jump in maybe five minutes. By the way,” he added, “I’m guessing you know about the connection between Therum and your parents?”

Athena stiffened at the question, but nodded. “Of course I do. It’s where my father- where they met.” After a pause she asked, “Were you there too?”

“No,” Garrus replied. “I’d met your father and joined up, but I stayed aboard the Normandy for that mission. I think it was Kaidan and Tali who were with him when he met Liara.”

Athena pondered this, but didn’t speak again.

After a while, Garrus asked her cautiously, “Are you okay talking about them? I’m sorry, I should have asked you that first.”

Athena gazed around haphazardly at the controls. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It hurts either way.”

“I see.”

Silence fell again between them. Athena crossed her arms and swayed slightly in her seat to the ship’s motion. “My mother’s dead,” she said abruptly. 

Garrus looked at her, his expression unreadable.

“I don’t know about my father, but my mother is- my mother is-” Her voice stifled a sob.

“What happened?” asked Garrus.

Athena shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her eyes watered, “I- I just miss her. I miss her so much!”

Garrus put his arm around her.

They watched the brilliant color trails of the ship’s warp streaming by for a while.

At last, something chimed out from the controls. “What is it?” Athena asked wiping her eyes.

Garrus checked the display. “We’re there.”

The multi-hued tunnel of light faded, and the black expanse of space snapped back into view. Directly in front of them loomed the gray, reddish surface of Therum. Garrus brought the _Phoenix_ carefully into a planetary orbit and set the scanners to work. Thousands of meters below, the world’s surface rolled by peacefully.

“I’ve been wondering - why would Kaidan think there’s something else here?” Athena asked.

“Because Bau didn’t know about Shepard’s history with this planet,” Garrus replied. “He said himself it was by chance that he picked up what he did. Shepard’s many things, but enigmatic? Never his style. Even for something like the _Titan_ , he wouldn’t just leave behind a couple of unmarked vid files with nothing else to explain them.”

Athena thought about it. “Kaidan said Bau found those files in one of the comm buoys here. Did he actually take the data drives from inside the buoy or just transfer the files digitally?”

“I’m betting it’s the second one,” said Garrus. “Remember, Kaidan also said Bau was just passing through when he picked up on the files’ signal. Without knowing about Shepard’s connection to this place - or really just knowing Shepard like we do - he probably assumed that was all there was.”

As he spoke, one of the Phoenix’s scanners indicated a proximity alert.

Garrus glanced at it. “Good, here’s one of the comm buoys now.” He adjusted course inwards toward the planet and peered though the cockpit windshield.

Outside, the bulbous metallic structure gradually came into view. It carried some resemblance to the old ocean buoys of Earth, but had been built out of far more advanced materials and was a good deal sturdier than its antique cousins. Instead of a bell at the top, a trio of satellite dishes were balanced against one another and below these, a panel of blinking lights indicated the main circuit boards and storage chambers. Although unconventional, it was not uncommon for passing ships to store small items or data packets within a buoy’s confines, sometimes as a token of appreciation for buoy maintenance, or else as potential aid for travelers in need. Space navigation was, after all, still intrinsically dangerous even for the best equipped.

A thought struck Athena as she watched the buoy draw closer. “How do we tell whether this is the right one? Most planets usually have several, don’t they?”

“They do,” Garrus agreed. “That’s probably why those vid files were programmed to signal out. But according to Kaidan, once Bau had decrypted the buoy’s signal it deactivated, so I think we’re just going to have to check them all one at a time.” He gave another sideways smile. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

It proved a tricky process to maneuver close enough to the buoy for physical access. Despite the _Phoenix’s_ size, Garrus had to pull it through several increasingly delicate twists and turns before he could lock it into a parallel trajectory. There were plenty of breath masks onboard, but only three EVA suits, all of which were too big for Athena. Garrus donned one of these and, leaving Athena to watch from the cockpit, exited through the side airlock.

Athena watched as he floated over the tiny gap that remained between the ship and the comm buoy. She saw him press something on the buoy’s outer panel before vanishing through a small hatch. The orange tether line between his suit and the airlock trailed listlessly in his wake.

When he at last emerged she saw with a rush that he was carrying something under his arm. It looked like a mass of folded fabric. He waved towards the cockpit as he floated back across the gap. Athena rushed back to the airlock as he came aboard.

“Did you find something?” she said the instant he’d taken his helmet off.

“Not what we’re looking for, but I think it could still come in handy.” He handed her the bundle of fabric, which was revealed to be a youth-sized spacesuit. It was made of a smooth, but firm material and with a slight elasticity to the touch. A small blue label reading “Parnitha Fabrics,” adorned the collar of the suit, which was otherwise entirely white and, on the whole, appeared remarkably well-preserved considering its location.

“Thanks,” Athena said, admiring the garment.

Garrus pointed at the logo. “That company’s based out of Thessia if I remember right. They’re not exactly low end when it comes to their products. This is a bit of a find in itself.”

Athena shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve never been to Thessia,” she said, a little embarrassed. “I know I’m asari, but Earth was my home world.”

“Do you want to go?” Garrus asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

The next two comm buoys met with similar results. Now able to join in the searching, Athena was surprised at some of the things they came across: a toy model version of the Citadel, a box of curry flavored dextro-amino rations and, much to Garrus’s chagrin, a data pad containing an old issue of Fornax magazine entitled _Turian Titillations vol. 74_.

“We’re _not_ taking it,” he said, tossing the data pad into a corner. 

“Why not?” Athena asked, trying in vain to suppress her giggles. “It looks pretty old. Maybe it’s worth something.”

“I don’t care.”

They did, however, bring back a box of medi-gel as well as several other ration packs that appeared slightly more edible than the ones on the ship.

It was with a growing sense of monotony that Athena followed Garrus once again out the airlock to the fourth buoy.

Aside from a solitary maintenance mech curled up into ‘offline’ mode, the storage chamber appeared barren. Garrus swept his gaze around the area twice, scrutinizing the corners through his targeting visor. Suddenly he paused and looked hard at one of the panels.

“This is new,” he said moving closer. “Yes, I think this is it!”

“What?” In her excitement Athena pushed off too hard and nearly soared right past Garrus in the zero gravity environment. She reached out and Garrus drew her back in by the elbow.

“Here,” he said, pointing.“See it?”

It was tricky squinting through the dim chamber, but Athena saw it. A storage container with a cable running directly into one of the the buoy’s network ports. The silver device was small, polished, and cubical in shape. It had been placed right up against the series of flashing panels it was plugged into. Nestled there in the otherwise uniform environment, it was easy to miss.

“That cable must be how it was able to send the signal,” Garrus observed. “It’s been plugged right into the network’s central processing.”

“Can we open it?” Athena half whispered in her excitement.

Garrus reached out and carefully picked up the cube. “We can try.” He was about to disconnect the cable when the container suddenly made a pinging sound. A minuscule touch screen flickered to life on its top side. It flashed the following:

_Standby for Bio-Metric ID Scan_ . 

The message then vanished and was replaced with a handprint scanner readout as the pinging subsided.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” said Garrus, eyeing the screen with interest.

“Try it,” Athena urged.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you do it.“

“Alright.” Garrus pressed his palm against the shimmering blue display. A series of thin lines traced digitally around his fingers. There was a pause. Garrus and Athena each held their breath in anticipation. Athena could feel her heart thumping eagerly within the folds of her suit. The screen gave a chime, turned from blue to green and flashed a new message:

_Positive ID Recognized - Garrus Vakarian - Access Granted._

With a gentle hiss, the surface of the container slid open.

Athena let out a gasp. Inside were two data pads and a small, glowing metal shard. She stared at it curiously. Like the data pads, it was thin and rectangular in shape, but only about half as wide. Its glow came from a narrow iridescent line of turquoise, which ran along the dark gray surface in a peculiar curve stretching lengthwise from one edge to the other.

A mysterious feeling came over Athena as she looked. A warm, far away feeling of comfort and safety.

“I think,” she said slowly, “I think I’ve seen this before.”

Garrus had picked up one of the data pads and was examining it. He looked up as she spoke and she saw his expression had gone serious.

“What’s on that?”

Garrus held it out to her. It contained only a single text file, but the very first words brought a lump to Athena’s throat.

_This is Commander Shepard,_

_If you’re reading this then I can only assume my signal has been received and decoded by the Spectres. To the Citadel Council: The ship is secure, but severely depleted in fuel and supplies. We are trapped and have no means of getting to safety on our own. Personnel is down to minimum and we believe the enemy may be looking for us. Our current location appears secure for now, but there is no guarantee it will stay that way. Given our danger and the security risks of the ship itself, I’ve provided the means to our location through the echo shard left along with this message. You’ll find it to be a safer means of storage than most master VIs. Liara will know what to do with it. To access the storage unit I’ve left it in, along with the drives for this message, either Liara, Kaidan Alenko, Garrus Vakarian, Tali Zorah, or Urdnot Wrex may provide the necessary ID. Good luck and best speed. I’ll be waiting._

_\- Shepard_

_P.S._

_Liara, Athena: You are forever in my thoughts._

Athena stared at the message with unblinking eyes. Everything seemed to have stopped around her. A painful throbbing sensation of excitement mixed with dread welled up in her chest.

“He doesn’t know,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t know mother is…”

Garrus gently took the data pad from her and replaced it in the container. “Let’s get back to the ship,” he said. “We can talk more there.”

***

The _Phoenix_ continued along its orbital path above the rock-strewn cliffs and caverns of the planet below. Garrus had pulled them away from the comm buoy before reengaging the autopilot and joining Athena in the cabin. The storage container lay in a corner of the room, having been relieved of its precious contents. Garrus sat at the table examining the data pads while Athena sat on the bottom bunk and twiddled the glowing metal shard in her hands.

The second data pad was revealed to contain the original files of the footage Bau had acquired. Garrus skimmed through them, then leaned back in his seat and heaved a sigh. “This really is a predicament. I hadn’t expected our search to open and close so many doors already.” He glanced warily towards Athena. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but it might help explain some of this. Is there anything else you can tell me about what happened that day?”

Athena didn’t look up, but redoubled her fidgeting with the shard. “I’ve tried to forget most of it,” she confessed. “I told you I was on my way to school when everything started, right? That wasn’t it exactly - my mother was with me too. She decided for some reason to take me herself that day. We were just walking up when…it all happened.”

“The attack?”

Athena nodded. “There was a noise, an explosion and then fire. The next thing I remember is hundreds of those things flying around the sky. They were shooting at everything.”

“What happened then?”

“Mother pulled me up and we ran. People were already evacuating. She yelled that we had to get to an escape shuttle.”

“Did you?”

“I don’t remember exactly how, but we must have made it to one because I sat down and covered my ears from the sounds. The shuttle took off, and I remember my mother said, ‘everything's alright now.’ Then she called someone on her omni-tool - my father I think.”

“She called Shepard?” Garrus said with interest.

“I think so. I didn’t hear a lot of what she said.”

“Can you remember anything? Even just a few words?”

Athena frowned with the shard poised between her thumb and index finger. “I know she said, ‘oh goddess.’ And then she said ‘fly yourself,’ and ‘get out now.’”

“You didn’t hear what your father said?”

“I don’t remember.”

Garrus shifted in the chair, thinking. “Where did the shuttle take you?”

Athena bit her lip. “Nowhere. We got hit. The shuttle fell and-” She shook her head.

“It’s alright,” said Garrus quickly. “You don’t have to tell me the rest. And thank you.” He scrutinized the data pad with Shepard’s message. “Okay, let’s see if we can lay this out.” He held up a finger. “First, Shepard sets out to build the _Titan_ \- a project so top secret that not even the construction team knows everything. A few weeks before it’s finished, he comes to me worried and discloses the project’s existence, but not much else.”

“Right,” Athena concurred. “Just enough that you’d know to ask if something happened.”

“Exactly.” Garrus raised a second finger. “Then the attack happens. The situation’s dire and everyone tries to get away before the mothership strikes. Liara must have realized how serious it was because she then contacts your father while trying to escape with you.”

“And tells him to get out too,” Athena supplied. “I think she knew what he was working on. I overheard them sometimes. I can’t remember for sure, but I bet she told him to use the _Titan_ to escape.”

“Regardless, it looks like that’s exactly what he did,” said Garrus. “But not everything went smoothly. According to the message they’re low on fuel, without a proper crew and, wherever the Titan is now, they’re stuck. But they can’t just broadcast a distress call.”

“Because the stingers could be after them?” inquired Athena.

“That and because outside of the Council, no one is even supposed to know this ship exists,” Garrus reminded her. “Remember what Kaidan said about that? So instead, your father reaches out via a remote signal for the spectres, who report directly to the Council, and stores the means of recovering it somewhere only a select few like us will be able to access.”

“I think that’s everything,” said Athena, mulling the narrative over. “Well, except for how he got the message to Therum in the first place.”

“We’ll just to have assume he found a way for now.”

“But, what about my mother? Why did the message sound like he doesn’t know?”

“Hmm,” Garrus mused. “Were the two of them still talking when the shuttle got hit?”

Athena got up from the bed. “No,” she said tersely, pacing up and down the narrow space. “She was hugging me when it happened. She’d already ended the call.”

“That explains it,” said Garrus. “He must have thought you both made it out safely onboard the shuttle. That’s why he wrote the message like this. He expected Liara would be looking for him too.” His expression fell. “Damn it, how did Bau miss this? He found the signal, but didn’t think to scan for more than one data source? We could have had this container weeks ago.” He thumped the table in frustration.

Athena came over and looked at the words her father had written. “Those others that had the right IDs, I recognize the names.”

Garrus smiled wistfully. “That was his original team. Back in 2183 when I met your father and we all had our first adventure together.” He gave a short laugh. “Just like Shepard to leave the signal for the spectres, but the actual container for his old squad-mates.”

Something occurred to Athena. “Any spectre could get the vid files and the message, but only we could open the container to get _this_.” She held up the glowing shard. “And my mother was supposed to know how to use it to find him.”

“Right,” said Garrus. “In the message, he called it an ‘echo shard.’ Ring any bells?”

Athen shook her head. “No, but like I said, I know I’ve seen this somewhere.”

A curious look suddenly came into Garrus’s eyes. He gazed intently at the shard as if just seeing it. “You know what? I think I might have too.”


	11. Interrogation

“It’s looking serious,” said Bau in his flat objective tone. “Multiple reports, vids, distress beacons and scanner logs all from no less than five capital worlds across Council and Alliance space.”

“Thessia, Palaven, Elysium, Sur’Kesh and Eden Prime,” Kaidan read aloud, frowning at the news feeds Bau was showing him. “You’re sure about the times?”

“Implausible as it seems, I’m afraid the numbers leave little room for doubt - all simultaneous.”

“Jesus.”

Bau inclined his head solemnly. “Given present circumstances the Council has ordered us to continue on as planned, but I must confess this update is deeply troubling.”

The two of them were standing in the center of the Khan Hotel’s roof lot, which over the last couple hours had been hastily converted into a temporary quarantine. After much grousing from guests, the upper floors had been cleared then locked down, with C-Sec officers posted by each entrance and around the roof in gunships. Nora and her team were nearby having, at Kaidan’s behest, been assigned to oversee security within the quarantine itself.

The stinger remained as motionless as ever, encased within the biotic containment bubble. A team of engineers had set up a scanning station and the initial readouts were expected to flash up at any moment.

“Five other assaults, each upon major population centers like the one here, but all done in small concentrated groups,” Kaidan folded his arms. “It doesn’t make any sense. What’s the objective?”

“Perhaps to test our defenses?” Bau suggested.

“What for? They’ve already shown they’re capable of doing way more damage than this.”

Bau called over to the scanning station. “Has it finished?”

“Yes, sir!” the lead technician replied. “Results are coming up now.”

Kaidan moved over and squinted at the monitor’s readout. “It’s the same as the ones taken at Earth,” he said. “And the traces my team found afterwards. Look at the signature here.”

Bau peered at the display and nodded. “As you said, ‘down to the last electron.’ Any life forms?”

The technician shook his head. “None. No bio readouts, no separate heat signatures, there’s not even that much to go on for the ship’s internal composition.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kaidan. “Can’t you tell what it’s made of?”

“Best guess I can give would be some kind of plasmic energy that’s been solidified.”

“Solidified?” Bau repeated incredulously. “How?”

“You’ve got me there, sir. Frankly, I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life.”

 _Join the club_ , Kaidan thought. He swept a glance back and forth between the scanner readouts and the immobilized vessel. An idea struck him.

“What about the density levels?” he said. “Were they any gaps that could indicate interior space?”

The technician typed in several commands and a new readout showing a digital reconstruction of the stinger appeared on the monitor. “Looks like significant drops here,” he pointed to a portion of the bulkhead, “and here,” he indicated a middle section of the hull. “There’s definitely room for something.”

Bau glanced sideways at Kaidan. “Thoughts?”

Kaidan shrugged. “Plenty, but I think this is as much as we’re going to get from the scanners.”

“Agreed. Time then for a direct approach?”

“You read my mind.”

Bau gave some instructions to the scanning team and checked his equipment.

Kaidan signaled to Nora. “We’re going in. Have your team tighten their perimeter and keep those gunships on the alert.”

Nora signaled back that she understood. “You want us to drop the containment field?”

“Just for a moment. Once we’re in, expand it out further so that Bau and I have some room to maneuver.”

“You got it.”

“By the way,” Kaidan asked as she checked the scope on her rifle, “did you get that promotion yet?”

Nora gave a laugh. “My CO said we’ll discuss it. Code for ‘maybe, if you don’t screw up.’ Hey,” she added as Kaidan moved off, “be careful. Don’t forget all these things have done so far is try to kill us.”

Bau rejoined Kaidan at the edge of the containment field. He had drawn his side arm, an M-6 Carnifex heavy pistol, in one hand and readied his omni-tool’s combat blade in the other.

Kaidan drew his side arm too, an M-3 Predator pistol, as Nora and the others got into position. “I’ll lead. You okay to cover me?”

“Yes,” Bau answered. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Kaidan waved at the C-Sec biotics. “Now!”

The containment shield at the front of the ship vanished. Kaidan and Bau darted forward. Seconds later the shield came back up behind them, now forming a single large bubble around the space.

The officers’ chatter and the rumble from the patrolling gunships muted into an unsettling silence as Kaidan inched cautiously towards the ship, Bau at his heels. The stinger was still, but as he approached, Kaidan thought he could hear a faint buzzing noise. They passed under the nose and neared the curving struts. Kaidan ran a quick scan on one of them with his omni-tool.

“Same signature again.”

Bau reached out towards the one nearest him and prodded it. At once a burst of electrical energy flared up from his touch. Despite its limited size, the shock was so powerful it pushed the salarian back several paces, whereupon he staggered and fell.

Kaidan raced over, but Bau was already getting to his feet.

“I’m alright,” he said a little breathlessly. He waved to the C-Sec guards outside the bubble. “Just taken aback. Plasmatic or not, the material packs a punch.” Bau eyed the struts with reservation, then shifted his gaze to the glistening hull above. “You know, Alenko, you and I might be just about to uncover a species never-before-seen in the galaxy. Such a notion ought to make one feel elated,” he sighed. “But in truth, I have not felt this uneasy since the war.”

“Me too.”

Kaidan made to resume his examination but at that moment, something happened to make both his and Bau’s attention snap to alert.

Another series of bursts went up right from the underside of the hull above them. The shimmering blue surface sparked and crackled as something began to pass through it. Out from the very surface of the ship itself came a shape that seemed to flow right through the hull as if it were nothing more than water.

Taking aim with their pistols, Kaidan and Bau watched in silent apprehension as the shape descended.

A pair of bulky feet appeared first and were followed by a crude angular torso that hunched over. All were exactly the same shining color and texture as the ship from which they emerged.

Bau gave a sharp intake of breath.

The alien pilot, if indeed that was what it was, alighted upon the ground and stood still taking in its surroundings. It was short in height, not much more than five feet. On either side of the bent torso protruded long, curving arms that reached nearly to the floor. The left arm ended in a claw-like hand but on the right, where a hand should have been, was instead a large hollow tube like the barrel of canon. From above the alien’s torso and neck, the glistening blue body extended out into a round, sunken dome of a head. But featureless. Where there should have been a face there was only a gaping, shapeless, black hole.

Kaidan felt his stomach turn over.

Bau attempted to muster himself. “Can you understand us?”

The creature slowly raised its head. A hissing sound emitted from it. It was similar to the sounds the ships made when they fired but higher, prolonged, and infinitely more unnerving. 

Bau blinked and tightened his weapon grip.

“My translator isn’t getting a thing,” Kaidan whispered through clenched teeth.

The alien went on making the hissing sound for a moment longer. Then, without warning, it struck.

Kaidan saw the creature raise its right arm, the one with the canon attached. There was a shrieking sound exactly like the stingers’ weapons, a burst of electric blue light and Kaidan felt a searing pain tear through his right knee. The Predator pistol clattered to the ground as Kaidan stumbled down. He heard another bang next to him and saw Bau open fire.

The natural precision of Bau’s species mixed with the hard won experience gained as a spectre all but ensured the aim. His first shot caught the enemy squarely in the shoulder. Living up to its own reputation, the Carnifex round blew the creature’s right arm clean off in a shower of blue sparks. It toppled backwards from the impact and, with a yell of pain from the effort, Kaidan trapped it in another biotic field.

The alien floated inches above the ground, motionless once more. Bau rushed over to Kaidan waving at the C-Sec perimeter guards to close in. Lost in the intensity of the fight, Kaidan hadn’t properly checked his wound yet. With a thrill he saw that the creature’s blast had pierced right through both his shields and kinetic barriers to penetrate the armor below. This too had been destroyed and a nasty gash torn open above the knee. It was bleeding profusely. Kaidan winced as Bau hastily began applying medi-gel. The bleeding soon subsided, but the area continued to sting painfully. Kaidan tried desperately to calm himself. _All that from one shot?_

Bau was looking concerned and angry. “Hostile first contact. Openly attacking us. Attempting to gain the advantage by exploiting the tension! Absolutely intolerable,” he muttered furiously, helping Kaidan to his feet.

Behind them, three members from the perimeter group entered the containment bubble: Nora in the lead, accompanied by Davis and McConnell.

“You okay?” she asked as they raced over.

“Yeah,” Kaidan replied. He gave his biotic field a shake. “Take up firing positions on that thing.”

Nora motioned to the other two, who proceeded to flank the sides where Kaidan stood. Bau, however, walked right up to the alien and pressed the nose of his pistol into the glowing blue head as Kaidan lifted the prisoner back to eye level.

“Let’s try this again,” said Bau coldly. “Can you understand us? Make a fist if so.”

Kaidan retreated the biotic field from the alien’s hand, but the fingers remained as slack as before.

“I’m in no mood for defiance,” said Bau, his sallow eyes narrowing dangerously. “Tell me, does your species possess pain receptors? I’m guessing that missing arm is probably causing you some discomfort.”

Kaidan tightened the pressure of his biotic field. Angry blue sparks began to sizzle up from the alien’s body as the biotic bubble pressed slowly inwards with crushing force. Still the creature made no movement.

Bau dug the tip of his pistol even harder into the creature’s head. “Your species destroyed Earth. You attacked again here. You’re obviously aware of our presence. If you wish to keep your remaining limbs then kindly identify yourself.”

The head turned a fraction of an inch towards him. The hissing sound began again.

Bau spoke into his omni-tool. “Scanning team, are you getting this?”

“Working on it, sir,” came the reply.

Kaidan tried his translator again. Once more, it failed to decipher anything definite, but there did seem to be some kind of pattern within the noise. The scanning station radioed again.

“I think it might be photonic, like what the hanar use. Uploading key to your translators now.”

Kaidan tried it and this time heard the words the creature spoke. They were monotone and delivered with the same unsettling electric trill as before.

_“We are Drej. We are pure. We are purpose.”_

The words hung in the air. Nobody replied. The alien repeated its message. Then it began to tremble and convulse inside the biotic field.

“Alenko?” Bau asked anxiously.

“It’s not me!” said Kaidan, struggling to keep the field steady.

A faint light began to glow in the center of the creature’s torso. As it expanded the shaking redoubled.

“Oh spirits,” Nora eyes widened. “Hit the deck!”

“Throw it!” shouted Bau.

With all his remaining strength, Kaidan channeled a rush of biotic energy into his arm, raised the captive alien up, and hurled it as far away from them as he could. Just in time. With a roar and a flash, the mysterious being exploded into a scorching cloud of blue plasma.

The force of the blast caused Kaidan to fall to his knees again. Davis and McConnell hurried to deploy omni riot shields, as flecks of burning plasma came raining down. Nora quickly recovered herself and reached down to help Kaidan back up. Bau, once he had regained his feet, stood still gazing at the space where the creature had detonated.

“The enemy reveals itself,” he said grimly.

Kaidan staggered over. His leg still stung and the rest of his body felt ready to collapse from exhaustion. “Drej, huh?” he mused. “The Council’s going to love this.”

Bau gave a hollow chuckle. “Undoubtedly.”

“When should we tell them?”

Bau shook his head. “I will tell them. You will get some rest.”

Kaidan opened his mouth to argue, but the salarian put a hand on his shoulder. “That leg needs care, and you’ve been working harder than of any us,” he said firmly. “Take a few hours for yourself, Alenko.”

Kaidan hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“None required. Lieutenant, would you see my partner safely to the hospital?” 

“Of course,” Nora said. She took Kaidan by the arm and braced him firmly over his uninjured leg. “Do you want me back here after?”

“No, I should be fine,” Bau assured them as they made to leave. “There’s no immediate hurry. We’ve still got the question of what to do with this.” He cocked his head towards the now vacant stinger. “I would wager that with the right engineers we could learn a lot about these so-called Drej.”

Kaidan paused. “I think I know someone who could help us.”

Bau raised one of his leathery eyebrows. “An engineer?”

Kaidan grinned. “An admiral.”


	12. Third Reminiscence

_Private Message Dated: 02/21/2192_

________________________________________________________________

_Subject: On Nevos_

_Dearest Shepard,_

_Thank you for your last message. I’m sorry not to have replied sooner; the interviews and signings have been almost nonstop this week._

_When I set out to write this book, I had a feeling it would garner interest, but never to this extent. My publishers inform me that Journeys with the prothean is expected to pass five billion copies by the week’s end, and is showing no signs of stopping there._

_For all our adventures together, it’s only now becoming clear to me just how many people this galaxy holds, and nearly all of them want signed copies._

_The tour has been wonderful, but overwhelming at the same time. I’ve never really been one for events like these. I don’t know how you made it through all those Alliance ceremonies last year._

_Javik, as usual, is taking everything in stride. I believe he is more amused by our readers’ shameless enthusiasm than anything. He remarked to me this morning how he “does not understand the point of signing one’s name out in writing,” and that in his cycle, “it was enough to merely carve your initials into a foe’s skull with your knife.”_

_In all seriousness though, I think he is enjoying himself. He seems calmer and more cheerful than I’ve ever known him to be. Perhaps the reality that we defeated the enemy he alone fought for so long has finally started to sink in. I asked him what his thoughts were for the future and he said that, for the time being, he was pleased to share with me what knowledge of his own people was known to him. I don’t know what his plans are after we finish the tour, but I hope he finds some purpose._

_How are things with you and Athena? I’m delighted to hear she enjoyed my guest appearance on Alune All Stars (between you and me, I’d take that show over a Westerlund News interview any day). I’ll try to make time for another vid message as soon as I can. I still can’t believe how fast she’s growing. It seems like only days ago that we brought our little wise one home with us. Give her my love. As for your new assignment, I’m relieved you won’t have to work off-planet, but it must still be something significant if the Council’s really asked for you personally. I hope you learn more soon._

_The view from my window right now is breathtaking. The first rays of Nevos’s sun are rising up from the ocean and reflecting across every inch of the skyline. I wish you could see it. It reminds me of the view from that hotel balcony on Illium. Do you remember? Back then I was so preoccupied I never noticed how magnificent that sunrise was, or truly realized why you were right there beside me just like always. I miss you dearly._

_Love, now and to eternity,_

_Liara_


	13. Trace

“The Normandy?” Athena held the echo shard up to the light as if testing its authenticity. “This was Javik’s?”

“That’s right,” said Garrus. “On the rare occasions that I visited his quarters he always had it out on a little hover stand. He never talked about it though. I didn’t even know it had a name.”

Athena frowned. “So how did my father end up with it?”

“You got me,” Garrus shrugged. “Javik did come to hold a lot of respect for your father during the war. Maybe he gave it to him after? Or to Liara. She was the prothean expert after all.”

 _Expert_. Something stirred in Athena’s memory.

“That’s it!” she exclaimed suddenly. “This was at our home! Mother kept it in her study next to all the tech from her old archeology digs!” She traced a finger down the shard’s glowing blue line. “I used to poke around in there when I was younger. I wasn’t supposed to, but she never got upset if she caught me.”

“Liara was always fascinated by them,” Garrus recalled. “They were usually all she talked about. Well, aside from Shepard and you, of course.”

Athena smiled weakly. “So what now?”

“Seems to me we’ve got one course of action: find Javik. He’s the only other one who knows how the shard works - assuming we can track him down.”

“You mean you don’t know where he is?”

“No,” Garrus admitted. “He’s become a bit of a loner for obvious reasons. Personally, I can’t say I blame him. If I were fifty thousand years old and the last of my species, I’d probably keep to myself too.”

“Weren’t you already living alone on the Citadel?”

“Very funny.”

Athena twiddled the shard again in her hands. She’d never actually met Javik, but she knew him well from all the times he’d appeared on the vids with her mother during their book tour. “The Last Prothean,” as the headlines had called him, seemed to be almost as popular a figure as her father was. Growing up, she’d found it difficult to tell what the galaxy tended to discuss more: the protheans, the Reapers, or Shepard. 

“Javik has to be somewhere we can find. He’s too famous to just disappear,” Athena reasoned.

“I agree,” said Garrus. “I can think of a few places that might have drawn his interest, but we haven’t got time to go checking every planet with prothean ruins on it. We need to see if there’s anyone still with direct contact. Did Shepard or Liara ever talk about someone else who might have been keeping in touch with him?”

Athena thought hard. “There was one time. I overheard my father mention how Wrex had offered to give Javik something ‘real to shoot at’ if he ever got bored,” she shrugged. “It’s not much, but maybe Wrex has seen him?”

Garrus mulled it over. “Javik’s always been a solider when you get down to it. I could definitely see him taking Wrex up on that.” He stood decisively. “Let’s at least give our krogan friend a call. See what he can tell us.”

The two of them returned to the cockpit where Garrus pulled up the communications display. After a moment’s calibrating, he sent an outgoing call several clusters away, culminating in the signal being received from a planet bearing the name Tuchanka.

“Looks like our man’s at home,” smiled Garrus. “I’ll say this - if there’s anywhere in the galaxy with something ‘real’ to shoot at, it’s Tuchanka.”

“Have you been there?”

“A few times.”

Athena watched him expectantly. “How was it?” 

Garrus gave what was probably supposed to have been a care-free shrug.

“Eventful.”

A sound from the comm system brought an end to their conversation. On the screen appeared a large, crimson plated, scaly face with jagged scars and piercing red eyes. The visage of the krogan was so massive it filled practically the entire frame. As the connection steadied, Athena saw an enormous jaw, beneath the face, full of thick grinding teeth curve into a crooked smile.

“Haha! If isn’t the turian himself! Haven’t heard from you in a while, Garrus. Who’d you piss off this time?”

“Charming,” said Garrus dryly, but he was smiling too. “Please, I wouldn’t call about something mundane. Although speaking of which, is that a new scar under your left eye?”

Urdnot Wrex laughed again. The sound was that of a deep rumble, both humorous and intimidating. “Just some good old krogan power tussling the other day. Opponent wasn’t as lucky, but my medic assures me his remaining heart should work fine.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you getting soft now,” said Garrus in mock concern. “Especially what with the Council finally agreeing to reopen your embassy.”

Wrex gave a grin. “You heard. Yeah, I’ve seen thresher maws that were easier to butt heads with than that bunch.” His sharp eyes glanced around the screen. “So what can I do for you, Garrus? I figure there’s trouble since you’re calling from that old rust bucket of mine.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Garrus replied. “Before I get into it though, there’s someone here with me who I’m sure you remember.”

Athena leaned into view and waved. “Hey Wrex!”

The krogan’s grin broadened. “Athena! You’re looking tougher every time I see you.” His expression sobered a moment. “I heard about Earth. You ever need anything, or anyone tries to give you a hard time,” he jabbed a finger as thick as a birch rod towards himself, “you let me know.”

Athena grinned too. “I will, promise.”

Garrus resumed. “We’re on a trail, Wrex. The trail of something really big.”

Wrex listened intently as Garrus explained their situation. His brow furrowed beneath the large head plates, causing the scars lining it to wrinkle awkwardly in concentration.

Athena noticed that while Garrus told Wrex everything they’d found at the comm buoy and discussed regarding Javik, he neglected to go into detail about the _Titan_ itself. Or what she had said to him about her mother.

When Garrus had finished, Wrex gave a grunt. “I’ve been wondering about Shepard since this all started. Figures he’d be involved somehow. Not sure why he needs all this fancy tech to find him, but that’s why I’m not a spectre.”

Garrus blinked. “Drej?”

“Didn’t you see that emergency flash?”

“Not yet.”

“There was a galaxy wide alert that went out a few hours ago,” Wrex supplied. “My own people just received it themselves. Straight from the Council, no less. Says the species that attacked Earth are called Drej. It also confirmed that the Citadel and several capital worlds were attacked by small concentrated assault groups of Drej stingers.” Wrex’s immense jaw bent into a snarl. “Blasted little pyjacks.”

“What?” Garrus exclaimed. “There’ve been more attacks?”

“Hell,” Wrex answered. “I’ve started to get a couple reports of Drej scouts right here on Tuchanka.” His snarl intensified. “Not for long though.”

Athena had gone very still in her seat.

 _Drej_.

The name burned inside her like a furnace. She wanted to wipe them out; to destroy their existence like they had destroyed Earth’s.

Garrus drew a deep breath. “This is serious news. I’ll have to look for that alert. You’re saying then that there is a living species behind these attacks that’s been piloting those ships?”

“If you want all the little details, you’re talking to the wrong krogan,” said Wrex candidly. “When it comes to hostiles, krogan policy is simple: missiles if it flies, shotguns if it walks. As for Javik though, you’re half right. He did stop by Tuchanka a while back, but he’s not here now.”

“Where did he go?” said Garrus eagerly. “Did he say?”

“You won’t like it, Garrus.”

Garrus waved a hand impatiently, “We need to know, Wrex. Just tell us already.”

Wrex gave a shrug. “Omega. That’s where he said he was headed.”

The name was unfamiliar to Athena. She glanced at Garrus and saw that his expression had turned to ice.

“Crap,” he said slowly. “That could be a problem.”

Wrex nodded. “If you’re planning on going there, I got a few hands I could spare to give you some back-up.”

Garrus shook his head. “On Omega? Even we took along a whole battalion, our odds would be the same.”

“You change your mind, you know where I am,” Wrex said seriously. “Hope you find him.”

“We will,” Garrus promised. “You take care now, Wrex. Don’t start any rebellions without me.”

Wrex gave another of his deep laughs. “If I do, you’ll know it from thirty systems away! Later Garrus, Athena.” He flashed a final massive grin at the pair of them and the display went dark. 

“What’s Omega?” Athena asked immediately, as Garrus began to fiddle with the controls.

He sighed heavily. “Take the shadiest place you can think of and multiply it by a couple thousand.”

“That’s Omega?”

“No. Omega’s much worse.” Garrus pulled up a list of messages on the display and began sifting through. “It’s part of the Terminus systems, well out of the way from any law-abiding region. Sort of like the Citadel’s evil twin.”

Athena fidgeted. “I don’t understand why that bothers you. You’ve been to dangerous places. You fought in the Reaper war.”

Garrus continued to peruse the terminal. “This is different,” he said. “Omega is…well, let’s just say that place and I have a bit of a history. The really bad kind.”

“What happened?”

Garrus didn’t reply. Having at last found the message Wrex had mentioned, he pulled it up on the display to read it. “I need to think about this,” he said carefully. “Give me a little time here. I’ll come find you later.”

Athena didn’t move. “We’re going aren’t we?”

“I said I need to think about it.”

“But-” she began, but Garrus interrupted.

“Athena, not right now.”

“Fine,” Athena said shortly. She got up and stalked back to the cabin.

***

Outside the _Phoenix’s_ hull, the rugged surface of Therum began to shrink as the ship gradually pulled away from its orbit. The orange rays of the Knossos system’s home star danced to and fro across the ship’s wings, mimicking the flames of the very creature for which the ship was named. As it pulled further out of the system, the gentle hum of its thrusters changed to a deep guttural rumbling as the main booster fired in preparation for warp.

Nearly an hour had passed before Garrus returned to the cabin to find Athena at the terminal. She was browsing through news feeds again, but didn’t appear to be looking at any in particular.

“Hey,” Garrus said as he strode in. He was carrying the duffle bag he’d brought along. Setting this on the bed, he leaned back against the wall to face Athena.

She didn’t look up. “The feeds said Palaven and Thessia were among the other places that got attacked.”

“Yeah, I read that too. They said the damage wasn’t bad though. Sounds like a few of the cities were even quicker on the defense than the Citadel was.”

“Was there anyone you knew?” Athena asked.

“You mean that got hurt?”

She nodded silently.

“Not that I recognized.”

Athena sniffed. “This is nothing. Their planets are fine.” She tried to sound to dismissive, but her voice wavered. “Garrus?” she asked after a pause. “Have you ever lost many friends all at once?”

A shadow crossed Garrus’s face. “Yes,” he said grimly. “In fact, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

Athena looked up.

“We’re going to Omega,” said Garrus. “We’re on our way now. But before we arrive, there are things you need to understand about that place and me.”

She had never heard Garrus speak like this before. His face was solemn and his dark eyes looked distant as he began.

“You know already that I used to work for C-Sec. That was how Shepard and I met. After our first mission together I went back there, but it wasn’t the same. Thanks to Shepard’s spectre status, I’d gotten accustomed to gunning outside the lines - so to speak. Our mission had been a critical one with many lives at stake, but all I kept thinking about was how we were able to just get things done the way we needed to without all the bureaucratic roadblocks. Eventually I got so fed up that I quit C-Sec and left the Citadel.”

“Where did you go?”

Garrus gave a hollow laugh. “Take a guess.”

Athena’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Omega? Why?”

“I wanted to do things my own way. I thought that given my experience, maybe I could punch a hole or two into the endless crime of that place.” Garrus shook his head remorsefully. “Stupidest decision I ever made. Didn’t even make a dent. In the end, I got ten good friends killed, and nearly followed them. I _would_ have died if your father hadn’t happened to show up right at the last minute and gotten me out. Even then, it wasn’t exactly a clean getaway.” Garrus pointed towards his mass of facial scars. “Omega gave me these.”

There was a pause.

Finally Athena said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright.”

“I didn’t know.”

Garrus’s eyes came back to their familiar warmth. “It’s okay. This is part of what we decided after all. And we’re in this together, no matter what.”

Athena felt her own eyes water. “Okay,” she said, trying to master herself. “Will anyone remember you?”

“Hopefully not, but you’d be surprised how long some criminals can hold a grudge.” Garrus bent down and unzipped the duffle bag. “Which brings me to my next point - how’s your firing arm?”

Athena stood up from the table. “My what?”

“Firing arm,” Garrus repeated. From the bag he extracted a pair of sleek, heavy looking pistols. “You said you’d had some combat training, right?”

Athena eyed them warily. “I have, but will I really need one?”

“Yes,” Garrus said firmly. “Trust me, there’s a lot more to worry about than just Drej where we’re headed.”


	14. Gambit

Amidst a rocky ocean of asteroids loomed the massive, cheerless space station. Its dark funneling surface jutted crudely out from the gigantic asteroid into which it had been carved over countless centuries. A dull blood-red glow emanating from its upper reactors and drill chambers was the only source of illumination.

Even from a distance, Athena had to admit Omega’s despicable reputation seemed well deserved. She ran a hand over the white handle of the M-5 Phalanx pistol now adorning her left side. After trying out the different models Garrus had brought along, she had opted for this one. Garrus had spared no pains in giving her a basic understanding on using it. Nor had he held back about relaying what she should expect and do if there was trouble.

Following an unassuming flight path, the _Phoenix_ cruised into the station’s central ring and touched down inside a grimy brown docking bay. Before they exited, Garrus made a point to switch off only the non-essential flight systems as well as to ensure the alarms were all active.

“Just in case,” he said, with some tension. “Let’s go.”

The first thing Athena noticed once outside was the smell. A putrid odor combining rust, garbage, and every kind of decay imaginable flooded her nose and mouth. She gave several rasping coughs.

“How does anyone live here?”

“You get used to it eventually,” Garrus said, though his own expression was likewise one of disgust. He pointed to a glowing orange sign near the docking bay’s exit that read, _Gozu District._ “This way.”

They followed the sign down a dim hallway, the walls of which were covered with graffiti. After several turns the hall opened up into a broader passage with multiple walkways intersecting about. Athena followed closely behind Garrus, trying hard to ignore the foul stench that seemed to grow stronger with each step.

Garrus plodded on unperturbed, but ever vigilant and alert. His dark eyes whisked about the walkways as they moved and, more than once, he moved a hand over the compacted rifles on his back.

They saw no one in the initial hallway, but further down the new passage the station’s inhabitants soon became apparent. Scattered civilians of nearly every species in the galaxy trotted about the pathways, most of them avoiding eye-contact. Weathered turian security officers with outdated equipment stood on duty trying to look in charge. Human, quarian and elcor vendors alike attempted to sell mismatched piles of cast-off wares while krogan bodyguards loomed imposingly beside their stalls. Clusters of cackling vorcha leered out from the shadows with their long teeth and pointed faces.

Garrus took Athena by the hand as they continued on cautiously. A group of stone-faced asari mercenaries wearing bright yellow armor shoved past them without a word while, looking over her shoulder, Athena spotted three human escorts chatting animatedly with a pair of decadently dressed salarians outside a nightclub. As Garrus pulled her forward, the walkway began to open up again and the ceiling above vanished. In its place shone the deadening red and orange glow of the Omega skyline. Athena saw jumbled masses of multiplex business and residential units stacked, shoved, or even falling over one another while a disjointed patchwork of flashing signs and lights blanketed their surfaces. Grazed skycars, rusted shuttles and bullet riddled gunships soared between the buildings with impunity, displaying none of the organization or safety of the distant Citadel air lanes. Beneath this sprawled Omega’s filth-laden streets, proudly showcasing their reputation as one of the galaxy’s best havens for its worst criminals.

“Looks the same as ever,” said Garrus.

Athena shivered.

They passed by an old, sour-faced krogan with even more scars than Wrex glaring sulkily out from a doorway. He growled at Garrus and made a crude gesture with his fingers. Garrus ignored him.

“Where are we headed?” Athena asked, feeling strangely uneasy about raising her voice.

“A little club I know,” Garrus replied. “If Javik’s really on Omega, we can ask about him there.”

“How would a club know?”

“It wouldn’t, but its owner will.”

As they turned to the right, a yellow-striped skycar blaring music out its open windows roared past above. No sooner had the noise died away then Athena thought she heard gunfire in the distance. Garrus appeared to notice it too because he pulled Athena in closer and quickened his pace. The new street was deserted, but littered on either side with piles of rubbish. As they moved, Athena suddenly tripped on a piece of protruding metal. She stumbled to catch her balance and, in her efforts, kicked the metal so that the junk pile fell partially away. Glancing beneath it, she saw with a mixture or horror and disgust the decaying remains of a severed human hand. Its skin had already rotted away and the mottled flesh beneath was heavily crusted with grime and yellowish pus. Bulbous insects hummed gleefully around the swollen fingers, slowly eating them from the inside out. Athena gave a choking gasp, turned away, and vomited. Garrus strode over and edged the rubbish pile back over the remains.

“I hate this place. You okay?”

Athena coughed haggardly into her sleeve, nodding hurriedly. She motioned to Garrus to keep moving. They reached the end of the street and turned again onto a broader one full of pedestrians. As they advanced, the sound of someone crying out came from a nearby alley. Chancing a glance, Athena saw a young human kneeling helplessly before a trio of armed turians. One kicked him in the side of the head and he fell over, twitching. Athena looked away, feeling sick again.

At last Garrus said, “Here we are.”

Ahead down the street, a gaggle of civilians was crowded outside the largest and most extravagant looking nightclub the two of them had encountered so far. A massive display board depicting footage of several pole-dancing asari adorned the front entrance and beneath it, in dazzling neon letters, a marquee: _Afterlife_.

“Some little club,” Athena muttered.

“Figure of speech. Stay close now,” Garrus cautioned as they approached.

The queue outside the club was so vast it stretched to the end of the block. Many of the would-be patrons waiting in line appeared rowdy and impatient.

“Come on, let me in!” Athena heard one of them groan in frustration. She wondered anxiously how long they might have to wait before being allowed inside. Would they even let her in at all given her age? Then again, as Garrus had said, Omega wasn’t known for following rules.

To her surprise, however, Garrus disregarded the line entirely, leading her right past the horde of onlookers and straight up the steps to the front door itself. An enormous lumbering elcor bouncer barred their way as they came forward.

“Firmly dismissive: all guests wishing to enter Afterlife must wait their turn,” it said in a deep voice that was completely monotone.

“We’re not guests,” Garrus said cooly. “Tell Aria one of Commander Shepard’s squad-mates would like a word.”

The elcor didn’t budge. “Bored indifference: you could be an admiral of the turian seventh fleet and it would not matter. Substantial intimidation: back of the line now.”

Garrus stood his ground too, clearly annoyed. “Okay,” he muttered, then said in a louder tone, “What about Archangel? Would he matter?”

The elcor’s gray face twitched slightly. “Suspicious uncertainty: wait here please.” It trundled off to a comm terminal by the entrance.

Athena stared up at Garrus, bewildered. “Who’s Archangel?”

Garrus looked embarrassed. “A name Omega’s citizens used for me the first time I came here. Long story.”

“The bouncer recognized it?” Athena frowned. “I thought you said nothing you did here made a difference?”

“It didn’t, but that doesn’t mean no one took notice,” Garrus said. “I would have preferred not to drop that name if we could help it. It’s a dangerous card to play, but we haven’t got much choice.”

The elcor returned a moment later. “Courteously: Aria will see you. Please proceed inside. Warningly: no tricks, we’ll be watching.”

The gleaming doors slid open. Athena followed after Garrus and found that they were in a narrow entrance hall the walls of which had been converted into a tunnel of display panels. Each one depicted the same vivid image of wild, dancing flames. As they moved down the hall, Athena felt the temperature rising around her and the low pulsating rumble of dance music coming from beyond the far door. This too slid open as they approached. Instantly a blast of light, sound and heat flooded over them. Athena had to briefly cover her ears from the thunder of the music. She could feel the club floor vibrating beneath her feet.

Directly in front of them rose a gigantic stage, which wound in a circle around the club’s center. Several scantily clad asari and human dancers twirled and flaunted themselves across its surface. Through the stage’s center was erected a long cylindrical display screen, which flashed between stunning images of burning flames and equally stunning close-ups of the dancers every time one made a particularly alluring move. Beneath the stage stood a luminescent bar counter around which a number of patrons were congregated. Most were downing brightly colored liquids from shiny glasses or talking in small groups and pairs. Further out on the main floor were gathered dozens more guests of every species. Some were bobbing gently in time to the rhythm, while others flailed their arms and legs mindlessly in every direction oblivious to what they knocked against or whom.

Garrus led Athena past the bar and over towards a short flight of stairs leading to the club’s upper level. From what Athena could tell, the floor above comprised a series of private lounges overlooking the main room below. A rough looking turian, holding an assault rifle as thick as his leg, grunted as they approached and gestured up the stairs.

“Aria’s waiting for you.”

Wordlessly the two of them headed up, Athena wondering who exactly Aria was and just how she or anyone would know where to find Javik in this strange, hellish place. She regretted now more than ever her impulsive words to Garrus back aboard the _Phoenix_. They’d been on the station for barely an hour and already she couldn’t wait to leave it behind.

At the top of the stairs the walkway turned right, then opened out into one of the lounges. Before them, surrounded by half a dozen armed guards, on a pristine leather couch sat the most austere looking asari Athena had ever laid eyes on.

Aria T’Loak was called many things by the individuals lucky enough to see her more than once and live: “boss,” “mistress,” and “overlord,” to name a few. But none of these aliases ever came close to the fame and terror pouring continually out of her most widespread title, ‘the Pirate Queen of Omega.’ Although a self-proclaimed ruler, she had held Omega, and half the neighboring systems, tightly under her grip for centuries. The last time anyone could remember a rival group trying to loosen it, Aria had slowly choked its leader to death one door over from where Garrus and Athena now entered. Not even the unspeakable horrors of the Reaper war had been enough to depose her from the seat of power she so relentlessly maintained. Aria T’Loak _was_ Omega.

She sat now clad in a spotless white leather jacket with red markings around the collar and elbows. The jacket was open and ended around her midriff, beneath which she wore a black, segmented bodysuit. Despite its obvious purpose to outline her bust, the suit appeared to be made of so sturdy a material that even a krogan shotgun would have struggled to pierce it. Her long legs, likewise encased in black leather and knee-high combat boots, were crossed gracefully above the couch’s glossy surface. A dark band of makeup arced across her lower brow and formed a stripe down her bottom lip, creating a design of exquisite but unknown significance. Her skin tone, while normally blue, glowed a dazzling purple in the fiery atmosphere. She remained still, but turned her bright eyes menacingly upon the pair of newcomers as they approached.

“Stop there,” she said. Her guards raised their weapons.

Garrus and Athena immediately halted in place. Athena clenched her hands, nervously. She wished her heart would stop pounding.

“Garrus Vakarian,” Aria resumed in a short, business-like tone. “It’s been, what, seventeen years? Or do you prefer ‘Archangel’ while you’re back here?”

“No,” Garrus said brusquely. “I only pulled that because your guy at the door couldn’t make the obvious connection that I’m one of Shepard’s old squad-mates.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Aria said. “Half the guests waiting outside claim to be the commander’s long lost cousin on a daily basis. The name alone won’t get you as far as it used to.” Her penetrating eyes moved to Athena. “And who’s this you’ve brought along? She looks a little young to be auditioning to join my dancers.”

Athena felt her face flush. “I’m the commander’s daughter,” she shot back contemptuously.

The corner of Aria’s mouth twitched. “Of course you are.” She stood up. Even without her boots, she would have towered above her guards. “You’re here for a reason, so let’s have it then.”

Garrus didn’t beat around the issue. “We’re looking for another of Shepard’s old team, Javik. I’m guessing you know who he is. We heard he was on Omega.”

The pirate queen crossed her arms. “He is and he’s caused quite the stir since showing up. What do you want with him?”

“We need his help.”

“You planning to take him with you?”

“Possibly,” Garrus raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is he causing trouble?”

Aria’s fierce eyes narrowed. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if he was.”

“I suppose not,” Garrus spoke politely, but Athena noticed a strange look in the turian’s eyes that didn’t match his tone. She thought Garrus might have a slightly different view about the outcome of Javik causing trouble than Aria did.

Aria strode to the edge of the lounge. “Our last sighting of him was near an old drill site not far from here,” she said, watching the dancers below. “If he’s still there you should have no trouble finding him. Wait.” She held up a hand as Garrus and Athena made to leave. “A word of warning.”

“About Javik?” Garrus chuckled. “I know what he can be like. We’ll manage.”

“No, not him,” said Aria, still gazing out at the dance floor. “You’ve heard the latest reports from council space?”

Garrus’s face darkened. “What about them?”

“These invaders aren’t just making noise around the Attican Traverse or the Citadel. They’ve already caused more than one disturbance here in the Terminus systems too.”

“Are there any on the station?” Garrus asked sharply.

Aria did not reply at once. “Yes,” she said finally turning back to face them. “We’ve had several arrivals.”

“Damn it,” Garrus muttered. “What the hell could they want out here?”

“You’re welcome to ask if you meet any,” replied Aria coolly.“I wouldn’t count on them cooperating though. So far, they’ve proven about as friendly as a pack of starving vorcha.”

“You mean you haven’t tried to get rid of them?” Athena burst out.

Aria’s gaze flitted back to her. “Why should I?”

Athena’s hands were clenched again, but this time with suppressed fury. “How can you not care?” she cried. “After what they did!”

Aria’s lip curled in an unpleasant smile. “You hate them do you? Not to worry, every human here feels the same way. If you want to join in on their little crusade, be my guest. But as far as I’m concerned the Drej can poke around all they like, so long as they don’t break Omega’s one rule.”

“Which is what?” Athena demanded.

The pirate queen’s eyes flashed as she answered in a voice of cold steel, “‘Don’t _fuck_ with Aria.’”

Athena couldn’t find the words to reply. But neither did she look away. She stared at Aria, mouth tight and face burning in anger.

Garrus cleared his throat loudly. “Thanks for the information. Do you want anything in return?”

“No, your little visit’s made for a nice distraction,” Aria replied. She gestured to one of the guards. “Bray will see you out. Good luck finding Javik, better luck avoiding the Drej.”

The guard strode forward and motioned to follow. He was a batarian, a rare species Athena had only read about before now.

Batarians were similar in build to humans, but with folded leathery skin and longer, broader heads. Accounting for this were not two but four eyes, the second pair of which were smaller and set directly above the first. Both pairs were pitch black, having no discernible pupils or irises.

The batarian grinned, showing a mouth full of dozens of needle-like teeth. “This way,” he said in a guttural voice.

As they left, Athena chanced a final glance at Aria.

The asari was once more sitting cross-legged upon the burnished sofa, a data pad in hand. Her fingers slid over the input while her proud eyes raked the screen. Already her attention had passed on.

Athena fumed inside. How could anyone be so dismissive? She wanted desperately to say something more. To force Aria to recognize how wrong she was to disregard the Drej in this way. But a curious aura seemed to hang in the air around Omega’s ruler. It was as if there was an invisible curtain that fell upon visitors once their time had ended. Athena felt her throat constrict and Garrus nudged her to move. Bitterly, she followed after the guard.

The batarian led them back down the staircase, but instead of making for the entry hall where they’d come in, he turned them sharply left and walked into another smaller stairway going down. At the end was a bleak-looking metal door, which opened automatically. Stepping through, Athena saw that they were in a dimly lit back lounge with only a few patrons present.

“Down there.” The batarian pointed to yet another stairway in the rear corner. “The door at the bottom’ll let you onto the street. Go right, then third left and keep straight until you see the signs for drill site ‘4B.’ That’s your destination.”

“Hang on,” Garrus said. “Have any Drej been spotted in this district recently? Around Afterlife?”

The guard snorted. “If they’ve any sense, they’ll keep clear of this place for a ten block radius.”

“Is that a ‘yes?’” Garrus returned.

The batarian bristled with obvious impatience. “If you’re after intel, you should have asked Aria while you had the chance. We’re keeping watch and orders are to shoot on sight - that’s all you’re getting. Find your friend quickly and get off Omega - Archangel,” he added with a nasty grin.

Garrus’s eyes darted around to the shadowy patrons. He gave the batarian a stony glance then, together with Athena, made for the exit.

The alleyway outside was mercifully deserted, in stark contrast to the front entrance, but Athena welcomed the silence. Even as the station’s foul stench once more filled her nose and mouth, she felt calmer now that they were outside again. The ongoing pounding of Afterlife’s music mixed with its rampant guests, underneath the paralyzing shadow of its owner, had created a weight which only now seemed to be lifting. She swayed a little where she stood.

“Which way was it again?” she said. Her voice sounded small after the din.

“This way,” Garrus said, guiding her down the street to the right. “How are you holding up?”

Athena smiled bleakly. “Aria’s a real bitch.”

Garrus laughed. “No argument here.”

They kept at a brisk pace, encountering nothing besides a lone salarian huddled in a doorway. The red glow from the skyline danced above in the distance, as ominous as it was alluring. If cities could speak, Athena imagined, this one would have only tales of death and deceit to share. It began to dawn on her just how much loss must be riddled within the vast chasms of the station. Tens of thousands of years existing to contain only the blackest hearts in the galaxy. Without peace, without rest, without hope. Nothing but the cruel unforgiving struggle to survive. Athena had never believed she would find a greater void of death than the one left by the Drej after Earth. Yet here on Omega, the awful truth was clear.

They turned left after a time and before long passed a faded yellow sign with the label _Eezo Mine 4B - Gozu District_. As they trudged along the gloomy pathway, Athena thought she heard movement up ahead.

Suddenly Garrus halted in his steps. His gaze snapped to the street in front and he gripped Athena’s shoulder tightly, forcing her to move behind him.

Athena squinted down the dark street. She opened her mouth, but Garrus gripped her shoulder harder, muttering, “Do exactly what I say. Keep your firearm ready.”

Her body tensed. She felt her heart begin thumping loudly. Slowly but steadily she moved her hand over the grip of the Phalanx pistol. Scattered recollections of her training tumbled through her mind. She tried to steady her breathing.

Garrus spaced his feet where he stood and drew one of his weapons, a polished Phaseton assault rifle, from over his shoulder. With a series of sharp clicks, the weapon unfolded in his hands to become fully configured and ready for combat. Garrus held the sight up to his targeting visor, fingers poised around the trigger.

Five Vorcha approached out of the shadows. Even in the dim light, there was no concealing their hideous features. The ones facing them now wore little beyond simple combat harnesses, beneath which their mottled skin was stretched tightly around a knobby frame. They had pointed, rat-like faces with bulbous red eyes and gaping mouths full of teeth as long as icepicks. All five were carrying crude assault rifles. The group halted several yards away and the middle vorcha brandished a clawed fist at Garrus. A red sash was tied to the combat harness across his shoulder indicating some form of authority. 

“Blood leader says ‘Archangel has returned,” the vorcha announced in a choking high-pitched cackle of a voice. “Leader says time of vengeance is here. We kill you now!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Garrus called back. “We’re not looking for trouble here.”

“Turian no fool us,” sneered the vorcha. “Vorcha not there, but know story. Leader was there. Leader remembers. When leader see Archangel, blood pack follow.”

Garrus’s finger seemed less than a hair’s width above the trigger. “Your leader’s got it wrong then,” he said, voice frayed with tension. “I’m telling you - you’re making a mistake.”

“I don’t think so,” said a rumbling voice from behind.

Athena jumped and Garrus whirled around.

A krogan stood blocking the path behind them. The same heavily scarred krogan who had snarled out at them from the doorway earlier. He was wearing a set of heavy armor, black and red with a white skull splashed across the shoulder pauldrons. An enormous shotgun hung at his side. It was so large Athena could have slid her arm down the barrel, but the krogan held it as if it were a coffee mug.

Garrus’s face went pale. Athena heard him mutter, “Oh shit.”

The krogan’s face was contorted with malevolence. “I knew you’d return someday. You probably don’t remember me, Archangel, but I’m sure you remember my old boss, Garm.”

With a movement barely above a twitch, Garrus signaled to Athena to keep behind him. Ever so slightly the two of them began to back towards the left side of the street. There were plenty of gaps in the buildings lining it. If they could get close enough to cover…

“Yeah, I remember Garm,” Garrus said, finally abandoning pretense. “Pretty sure my last glimpse of him was with a bullet hole between his eyes.”

The krogan growled angrily. “I watched it all. Right from the foot of those stairs. Your commando friend blew a hole through my spine and two of my lungs. I couldn’t move. Just had to lie there and watch as you killed our leader.” With hulking strides, the krogan advanced upon them. “You should have made sure we were all dead!”

“When I fire,” Garrus mouthed in a dry whisper to Athena, “Run into the alley on your right. Stay low.” He tightened his rifle grip. “My mistake,” he said more loudly to the krogan. “Allow me to correct that.”

Before the krogan or any of the vorcha could respond Garrus opened fire. A shower of blazing yellow assault rounds burst forth. They were aimed at the krogan who, caught by surprise at Garrus’s speed, took the full impact of several hits. Garrus had barely squeezed the trigger, however, before taking a diving leap to roll clear out of the line of fire and into cover behind some old storage crates stacked nearby. The vorcha came forward spraying the crates with disorganized but heavy fire from their own rifles. Sparks and flecks of debris sputtered into the air around the crates from the barrage. Garrus smiled to himself. They were afraid. They were trying to keep him pinned from a distance in the hopes that he couldn’t fire back at this range. It was the worst mistake they could possibly have made.

Compressing the Phaseton rifle and replacing it on his back, Garrus then reached for the adjacent holder and drew out a second weapon. As it expanded, the barrel shot out further than any other part and a large cylindrical targeting scope popped up at the top. With an almost tender reverence, Garrus raised the sniper rifle and poked the barrel through a gap in the crates. Gangs like the blood pack were always in favor of head-on kills. Long range combat was impersonal and therefore not as enticing, unless it served to keep a foe trapped like they were attempting now.

 _Their funeral_ , Garrus thought. He pressed the trigger.

The head of the closest vorcha jerked back as if dragged by an invisible hook. A spout of red gushed out from its cranium. It was dead before it hit the ground. A second vorcha snarled in rage upon seeing his comrade die, and doubled his pace forward. He’d taken barely four steps before his own head snapped, and he likewise crumpled to the ground. The third vorcha was more cautious. It remained at a distance and seemed to be trying to aim at the gap where Garrus was firing from. Unfortunately the vorcha’s rifle, while deadly at close range, carried very little accuracy for anything beyond several yards.

The rounds from the rifle skittered and cracked against the crate’s alloy surface but did not hinder Garrus’s aim in the slightest. Within seconds the vorcha’s head floated between his crosshairs. He squeezed.

The sniper bullet whizzed through the air and straight into the vorcha’s gaping mouth. The vorcha’s eyes went wide as the entire back of its neck was torn apart by the round’s velocity. Without a word, it collapsed to the ground in a pool of its own blood. The bullet didn’t stop there. Passing out from the shattered brain stem of its first victim, the round soared on and right into the collarbone of the fourth vorcha who dropped his rifle and doubled over screeching in agony. Garrus scanned around for the fifth vorcha, but a sudden blast to the crates nearly knocked him off his feet.

The krogan was limping towards him, shotgun in hand. A watery orange fluid was pouring out from several bullet wounds along his torso and one of his legs was dragging, but the armor’s shields and kinetic barriers had done their work. His vitals were unharmed. The krogan roared and fired another blast from the shotgun.

Garrus rolled away, but the round was so powerful it all but tore apart the frontmost crate. His cover would soon be gone. Bracing himself against the rear crates, Garrus flooded his mind with every possible option. The krogan was nearly upon him now, but it did not fire. Garrus heard a hiss and the distinct clunk of a spent thermal clip being ejected. The shotgun’s incredible power apparently came at a cost. He made up his mind in an instant. Darting out from the crates he brought the butt of his sniper rifle up and with all his might bashed it against the krogan’s weapon hand.

The krogan gave a grunt of pain as the shotgun was knocked from his grasp mid-reload. Garrus tried to turn the rifle down for a point blank shot, but the krogan punched him squarely in the jaw with his free hand. Garrus stumbled and the krogan launched himself forward.

Seeing there was no time to dodge, Garrus did the first thing he could think of. He raised the butt of the rifle again and braced it out like a pole to halt the krogan’s movement.

The raw weight and strength of the krogan were so formidable that in any long term fight he would easily have overpowered the turian. But as the rifle collided with the great barrel chest, the krogan’s momentum slowed just a little and that was enough.

Using the rifle as a brace, Garrus pivoted around the krogan and delivered a powerful spin kick directly into the joint of the krogan’s wounded leg.

The krogan gave a bellow and sank to one knee. He reached desperately for where the shotgun had fallen, but Garrus was too quick for him. With astounding agility, the turian holstered his own weapon, leapt over, and scooped up the shotgun. Seconds later, its barrel pressed into the krogan’s skull.

“Sloppy,” Garrus said in a voice of deadly calm. “Very sloppy. No wonder the blood pack’s on the decline these days.”

“Filth,” growled the krogan. “You think you’ve won? Your name is a curse, Archangel. Omega will claim you one day and when it does we’ll be there.”

Garrus smiled modestly. “You’re the last on a long, long list of criminals who’ve said that to me. And just like all of them, you failed.”

The bang of the shotgun echoed through the street.

Garrus surveyed his surroundings. A large potion of the ground was stained crimson from the three lifeless vorcha. The fourth with the shattered collarbone still lay writhing and gasping where it had fallen. Garrus hardly noticed it. Something was wrong. Where was the fifth?

With a flood of panic, he let the shotgun fall and sprinted down the alley at top speed.

“Athena!”

***

The sound of ragged breathing filled Athena’s ears, mixing with the dull thuds of feet. The hand gripping her pistol was slippery with sweat. She could hear the vorcha hissing behind her as it pursued. Its swollen red eyes and long teeth seemed a hundred times more menacing in the long shadows of the alley.

The instant Garrus began firing she had darted into the alley. She had tried to find a corner or groove that might allow her to remain protected nearby, but one of the vorcha had spotted her. It chased her immediately and Garrus, in the midst of rolling behind the crates, had not realized her danger.

Fear welled up inside Athena. It had been growing steadily ever since arriving on Omega like a parasite in her stomach. Now, it flooded her body and shook her senses to their limits. But this time it did not paralyze her. Perhaps because by now fear was less a stranger and more an unwelcome guest. Earth had introduced them and the Citadel had gotten them talking. Now on Omega, Athena found that they had reached an understanding. One which no longer prevented her from thinking, or from moving. Her legs tore down the alley, heart pounding desperately against her rib cage. She ran flat out with every bit of energy she could muster. Every now and again she took a random turn trying to shake the vorcha off, neither knowing nor caring which direction she was headed.

Something shiny zipped past Athena’s face. She heard a sputter and saw a burst of sparks fizzling out from the wall next to her. Something else struck the ground ahead of her. There was an angry buzzing sound followed by the ricochet of metal on metal. She jerked her head back for a fraction of a second and the saw vorcha aiming its rifle as it ran. It was _shooting_ at her.

Half frantic from fatigue and desperation she turned sharply left, unaware that the path beneath her feet was giving way to a rusted narrow walkway. She also failed to notice the walls on either side abruptly fall away to empty space. Her footsteps seemed to be making more noise than before. They clanged and left echoes in their wake. Then suddenly without warning the walkway stopped.

Athena halted with a gasp that quickly became a cry of alarm. She was standing on the edge of a half-extended suspension bridge, poised above the treacherous yawning chasm of an old eezo mine shaft. A faint blue light shone out from its depths. The bottom could not be seen. Athena felt her legs trembling. Her vision blurred slightly. She couldn’t stay here. But the way forward was gone and the way back led to the vorcha. She was trapped.

The vorcha had turned the corner and now stepped onto the bridge gnashing its hideous teeth, rifle in hand.

Garrus’s instructions from the trip over came back to Athena as the full weight of the situation hit her. Wordlessly she drew up the M-5 Phalanx pistol, gripping it with both hands. As she did so, a small cylindrical modification atop the thermal chamber hummed to life. Athena gazed with detached wonder as the pistol projected a bright blue targeting beam ahead of her. She followed it and saw the dot hovering around the vorcha’s left leg. Although she was no longer running her heart continued to thump furiously inside her chest. Her legs shook, but her hands stayed steady as she moved her aim upwards. Although the vorcha was still several yards away, the beam told her she was pointing where she needed to be. Time slowed as her fingers closed upon the trigger. Fear lashed her mind and hot beads of sweat ran down her face. The vorcha must have realized what Athena was doing because as she fired, it did the same.

A stream of blazing orange bullets erupted from the vorcha’s gun as two powerful white ones blasted in rapid succession from Athena’s. The Phalanx rounds struck the vorcha one after the other in the gut. It gave a shriek and doubled over, blood seeping out from its stomach. The assault rifle dropped from its hands and clattered out of sight into the shaft below. Athena barely noticed before a terrible pain ripped through her right leg. She screamed and landed hard on the bridge. Her leg felt as if it had been stabbed with a piece of red hot iron. Athena tried to crawl forward, but found she had barely any strength left. Her wounded leg seemed immobilized from the pain and all of her remaining muscles were working at half speed. She clenched her teeth and screamed again as she clawed her way forward, forcing her body to keep moving. Her leg burned and had begun to feel covered in something warm and wet. Chancing a glance down, Athena saw with fresh horror a dark stain spreading over her pants’ leg. She felt dizzy again and her eyes swam as she watched the purple blood pooling around her shoe.

_The path._

She had to get back to the path!

Willing herself to stay conscious, she grasped, lurched and hauled herself forward inch by inch. But a chilling laugh brought her to a halt once more. The vorcha was kneeling where it had been shot. Its head was raised and its fangs bared in a malevolent grin. Slowly, it raised a calloused hand, the fingers of which were wrapped tightly around a flashing metal ball.

The understanding of what was about to happen struck Athena so hard, what little energy she had remaining left her.

The vorcha gave a final gurgling cackle, blood dribbling out of its mouth.

With a blast like a small cannon, the grenade detonated.

Athena felt herself blown backwards as if she weighed no more than a paper bag. Red spattered across her face and into her eyes. There came the sound of something cracking. Then several somethings cracking. The suspension bridge shook and swayed beneath her. There came a clang like a bell’s and the supports gave way.

Nearly blind from the fear, pain and blood, Athena saw for an instant the cold blue light of the mine shaft rushing up to swallow her. Her heart ceased its pounding. Noiselessly, she felt her mouth say the word “mother,” and everything faded to black.


	15. Mission

Kaidan’s apartment door slid open with a welcoming chime. It was a typical Presidium unit, much of it furnished and intended to evoke the very buildings visible through the windows. Exhausted, Kaidan stumbled over the threshold and sank gratefully into a chair. Behind him, Nora hovered by the door’s edge.

“It’s fine. Come in,” Kaidan said. “I could use the company.”

Nora stepped through. “Sure you don’t want to rest?”

“In a little. I don’t think my mind’s finished accepting everything that happened today.”

“Yours too, huh?” Nora glanced around. “So, this is what I can look forward to if I ever become a spectre?”

Kaidan faintly waved a hand. “Guess so.” 

After departing the quarantine, Nora had given him a ride to Huerta Memorial, where he’d received further treatment for his leg wound. He was no longer limping, but the spot where the bolt had struck still ached.

Kaidan gently rubbed the spot with a hand. “This is more a place to crash than anything. I usually spend furloughs elsewhere.”

“Oh? Where at?”

Kaidan’s eyes shifted. “Earth.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

A skycar hummed past the window. Kaidan continued to massage his leg, while Nora pretended to be interested in a painting of the Serpent Nebula hanging by the door.

“I never imagined Earth could disappear,” Kaidan said after a while. “Even during the war, the Reapers never took it from us entirely. They hit our homes, our cities, but the planet itself wasn’t really in danger. When we beat them - I guess part of me just believed Earth would always be home.” The hand massaging his leg clenched. “I was wrong.”

Nora had gone very still. “Nobody could have imagined this,” she said firmly. “Don’t go blaming yourself. This galaxy’s got a long history of being harsh on everybody - even at the best of times.” She paced to the window. “I didn’t focus on it when we picked you up, but I’ve heard of you, Alenko. I know about some of the things you and Commander Shepard did.” Nora’s face clouded over. She stared through the window at the glimmering ocean of buildings, not really seeing any of it. “I was on Palaven when the Reapers hit. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. I don’t know what these Drej want, or why they destroyed Earth. I don’t know what you or the Council have planned, but - maybe I shouldn’t be saying this. I’m just the C-Sec officer who your got your call, right?”

“Yeah,” said Kaidan. “But let’s hear it anyway.”

Nora’s avian face offered little in the way of expression. “Even with Earth gone, as long as there are humans like you - humans who don’t quit - then it’s not the end of things. Not really.” Her amber eyes peered thoughtfully at him. “I get the feeling this isn’t the end for you either.”

Kaidan couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” Nora said after a pause. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Hey,” Kaidan said as she moved towards the door. “Any word about your promotion?”

Nora smiled. “Yeah, I got a call while you were inside Huerta actually. Should get the official nod in a week or so.” She shook her head as if it didn’t really matter. “Listen, I know you don’t need me to tell you to watch yourself, but all the same, be careful. And the next time you’re back here, let me know?” Nora glanced away awkwardly. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

In spite of himself, Kaidan smiled. “Sure. Maybe we could even stretch it to two.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She winked at him and headed out.

Kaidan reclined back in his chair. The ache in his leg was nearly gone. He was just thinking of getting up to head for the bedroom when his omni-tool chimed. Opening it, he saw it was Bau calling him.

“Alenko, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I’m still up. What is it?”

Bau’s amphibious eyes danced with excitement. “The Council approved your idea. They want us to take the stinger and head for the Hekate system to rendezvous with the quarian flagship _Uma._ From there, we are to continue analyzing the ship and anything it can tell us about the Drej - with of course the full cooperation of the _Uma_ crew and CO.” 

Kaidan grinned. “Nice work.”

“I merely delivered your proposal. Our departure time is 1700 hours out of docking bay 46. See you there.”

“See you.”

Kaidan stood up wearily and made his way into the bedroom. Stripping off his uniform, he collapsed with an audible sigh of relief into the mattress. As his mind drifted into unconsciousness he thought of Garrus and Athena. How their search was going. Were they close? Could they really find the _Titan_? And what of Shepard?

 _Shepard_. Kaidan pondered. _Where are you?_

***

With a blast of engines, the _Valkyrie_ dropped out of warp to face the glow of Hekate’s home star. Leaving the mass relay behind it, the ship began a second FTL jump towards the first of the sun’s orbiting planets. The ship was modest in size, not much larger than the average frigate. Its jutting hull was capped off by rear wings that intersected to form an ‘X’ across the main thruster array.

The ship’s designwas inspired by a line of interstellar yachts created on Earth a few years ago. The high end manufacturer’s initial function had been quickly discarded when the owners were approached by a group of Citadel contractors carrying an offer that would have made even an elcor beam with pleasure. Several appropriations and upgrades later, the design had been transformed from a party vessel to an all-new class of cruiser. Tailored specifically for reconnaissance and strike raids, it was the perfect vessel for asari commandos, salarian Special Tasks Group members, or spectres.

Although there was easily room for a dozen, Kaidan and Bau found no difficulty in crewing the _Valkyrie_ by themselves. The captured stinger was secured in the cargo bay below, and so far all had gone according to plan.

Seated at the navigator’s station, Kaidan scanned for the _Uma_ while Bau worked briskly in the pilot’s chair beside him to keep their trajectory on point.

“Have you been out here before, Alenko?” Bau asked.

“Once or twice during the war,” Kaidan replied. “You?”

“Several times. Have you ever heard of the master thief, Kasumi Goto? This system was one of the first I happened through while pursuing her.”

“Sure, I’ve heard of her,” Kaidan said. “She was part of Shepard’s team for his Omega-4 Relay mission.”

“The collector base?” Bau looked surprised. “I knew she and the commander had crossed paths, but I never realized she’d been present for _that._ ”

Bau fell into self-musing for a time while Kaidan continued his scans. They were still some minutes out from the agro world, Asteria, where the _Uma_ was located, but Kaidan hoped to establish contact as quickly as possible.

“Did you ever catch her?” he asked Bau presently.

“What?” said Bau starting out of his thoughts. “Oh, Ms. Goto? No, I never did. I came close, but at the last she was killed before I could apprehend her.”

“How?”

“A hanar diplomat,” said Bau his expression becoming dour. “Indoctrinated by the Reapers.”

Kaidan’s face became grave. “How’d you know she and Shepard crossed paths?”

“The commander helped me stop the hanar. It’s how we met. Ms. Goto had sent me intel on the hanar’s identity - her idea of a peace-offering. It was only after she was killed that I realized she’d actually been there the whole time, helping the commander in secret. I never disliked her, you know,” Bau added thoughtfully, “despite all the paces she put me through when I was chasing her. In another life she would have made a fine spectre herself."

A signal acquisition from the console brought them both to attention. The _Uma_ was haling them _._ Suppressing his excitement, Kaidan opened the comm channel.

They heard a static voice say, “This is the _Uma_. We read your signal, _Valkyrie,_ and have confirmed your approach. You are cleared for docking upon arrival. _Uma_ out.”

Exiting FTL brought the _Valkyrie_ face to face almost at once with the rich olive yellow surface of Asteria. Orbiting steadily around the planet and coming towards them was the _Uma_ : bulky, robust and undeniably magnificent.

Bau brought the ship into docking with his usual efficiency, then headed with Kaidan through the airlock. A gush of billowing air followed as the _Uma_ ’s doors slid open to reveal five quarians waiting to greet them.

They were each clad, head to toe, in the traditional but complex enviro-suits worn by the species. A remarkable combination of attire and hardware, enviro-suits protected them from all breathable hazards and served to compensate quarians for their virtually non-existent immune systems. Despite the universal purpose, however, each suit was lovingly crafted to display a uniqueness that was as individual as its wearer.

The quarian at the group’s center came forward. Silvery pupil-less eyes shone out brightly from behind a dark tinted faceplate. She raised her three fingered hands in welcome and Kaidan, instantly recognizing the patterned shawl around her enviro-suit’s hood, stepped forward too.

“Permission to come aboard, Admiral,” he said with a knowing grin.

“Permission granted,” laughed the quarian, trying to contain herself. Then abandoning all ceremony, she reached out and hugged Kaidan briefly. “It’s wonderful to see you, Kaidan. Welcome aboard.” Turning to Bau she continued in a more professional tone, which nonetheless revealed her feisty spirit, “Tali Zorah Vas Uma of the quarian heavy fleet, at your service.”

“Jondom Bau, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance,” Bau replied politely. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you, Admiral. Anything the vids have not covered, Alenko has made sure to fill me in on and then some.”

“Those vid feeds always exaggerate. I keep telling them, it was just the _one_ destroyer,” Tali said amusedly. “ _Keelah_ , it wasn’t even me who hit it. Shall we?”

They followed her from the airlock down a tight-knit series of passages with low lighting and few windows. Despite the ship’s size there appeared to be no space that was exempt from being used for storage. Quarians, Kaidan reflected, carried a long standing reputation for being adept at scavenging castoff materials and finding a use for even the most unlikely of spare parts. The Reaper war had marked a turning point in this, however, when the quarian home world had at last been reclaimed, following more than a millennium’s worth of toiling to do so. Kaidan hadn’t had much contact with quarians since that time, and he was curious to see in what ways their culture might have changed.

“How’re things on Rannoch?” he asked Tali as they moved along.

“Thriving,” Tali replied. “We’ve established a new capital and begun more agricultural projects than I can count. It feels almost too good to be true sometimes.”

“Did you just come from there?”

“Oh no,” she laughed, “We’ve been out in this system for nearly seven months now. Officially, I’m supposed to be overseeing a task force to learn ‘advanced soil tilling methods for dry climates.”

“And unofficially?” Kaidan asked lowering his voice.

Tali glanced at her followers before whispering, “I just wanted an excuse to get away from the other admirals.”

The passage widened ahead of them whereupon the group found themselves entering a vast multi-leveled chamber with endless small and mid-size cubicles on every side of the interlocking walkways and ramps leading to the upper floors. The top and mid-level floors seemed to be the most active, with many other quarians bustling about on various tasks. By contrast the lower floor where they stood were nearly vacant in personnel; although the amount of cargo and salvage looked nearly triple that of the above.

“You certainly still don’t lack for parts,” Kaidan observed, trying not to bump anything. A large stack of mostly-spent thermal clips teetered dangerously by his shoulder.

“These days, if it’s not agro-education, it’s gathering resources,” said Tali. “We’ve a lot of empty space back home to fill.” She waved to the four quarians accompanying them. “I’ll handle it from here. Are Soris and Yuna ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied one of the escorts. “Shall we move the stinger now?”

“Move?” asked Kaidan.

“To our tech lab,” Tali supplied. “We’ll be able to run analysis on it more easily from there. Proceed,” she said to the escort as Kaidan nodded his assent. “We’ll begin as soon as you’re finished.”

“Did you have a chance to read our report?” Bau inquired as the escorts departed and Tali led them down a new path to the right.

“Yes, it’s the strangest thing I’ve read all day. A ship and species composed of solidified plasma energy?” She shook her head. “To convert energy in that way is improbable enough, but a living _sentient_ species?”

“Sentient, communicative, and hostile,” said Kaidan. “Very hostile.”

The lab when they reached it was crammed to bursting no less than the rest of the _Uma_. A modest portion of floor in the back had been cleared of storage and a series of workbenches and computer stations erected nearby, but the path to these was ankle deep in cargo. The work hub served to establish the lab’s main area of activity as well as to hold back the largest of the cargo piles around the edges, some of which loomed unsettlingly high. Except for some overhead lights around the cleared space, the lab was just as dim as the passage outside.

Two quarians were already present. The first was wearing an enviro-suit of dark blue and typing animatedly into one of the computer terminals. The other wore a lighter suit of green and yellow and stood by a stack of containers scanning something with her omni-tool.

The quarian at the computer glanced up at the three newcomers, looked down again, paused in his typing, looked back up and nearly fell over from his excitement. Straightening himself, he swiveled his seat and called out, “Yuna, they’re here!”

“Wait!” the quarian with the omni-tool yelled back. “I’m nearly finished. Don’t you dare start on that stinger without me!”

“Systems engineer Soris Relo Nar Shellen and tech analyst Yuna Relo Nar Shellen,” Tali introduced them. “Twin siblings,” she added with a touch of amusement.

“Not that I see the resemblance,” Yuna replied, making a big show of closing down her omni-tool. “If it wasn’t for the constant verbal reminders, I’d probably forget we’re related by the end of the day.”

“Make sure you copy those scans to our private server,” Soris said from the terminal, seemingly oblivious to the remark. “That new one I made, _not_ the one named after your omni-drone.”

Yuna shot him a rude gesture with her fingers as she headed over.

Kaidan watched bemusedly as the pair of them set about punching in a series of commands on the computers.

A creaking sounded from the back of the room, revealing the far wall to be, in fact, a set of doors. Opening them connected the lab with a small but specially configured docking bay. Outside past the doorway, Kaidan saw a pair of quarian shuttles towing the stinger along. 

Bau meanwhile was pacing around the lab taking in its features. “Are you certain this will be sufficient?” he asked Tali. His tone remained respectful, but he was obviously unimpressed. 

“I know it’s probably not what you’re used to,” Tali said. “But trust me; by the time we’re done here we’ll know everything about that ship, from its point of departure to how many times its guns have fired.”

The shuttles deposited the stinger into a holding area just beyond the doors. Soris typed another command, and a bluish force field flickered into place around the docking bay permitter.

“Alright, let’s start off with the usual - oh,” he paused and looked at Tali. “Uh, Admiral may we-?”

“Yes, the word is given. Get going, Soris,” Tali said with the air of one coddling a hapless infant.

“Right,” Soris resumed. “Let’s start with the usual lineup: heat signatures, electromagnetic frequencies, elemental composition, density,” his voice quickly devolved into excited mutters as he began scanning.

“Watch the alignment on the third optics dish,” Yuna warned. “It’s still tilting every time we try a heat reading on something larger than a shotgun.”

“I thought we agreed you were going fix that this morning?”

“No, _you_ agreed. _I_ was busy.”

The scan results soon appeared.

“Okay,” Soris said absently, skimming over them. “Looks in keeping so far with the spectres’ report.”

Tali had moved in for a closer look at the computer screens. “Here,” she said pointing to a line of numerical data under the stinger’s wave frequency readouts. “I don’t think this was in the Citadel scans. It’s very slight, but there’s definitely a fluctuation. See if you can enhance it.”

Yuna typed in a fresh string of commands and the display flashed up a second line of numbers beneath the first.

“Ah!” Bau exclaimed. “I see what you’re getting at. Can you match these numbers with the respective area’s heat signature?”

“One moment.” Yuna pulled up a second display window. “There, the central underbelly.”

Kaidan eyed the screen. “That’s where the pilot exited from, isn’t it?”

“You’re right. Take a look at these patterns, Alenko. The wave fluctuations correspond precisely with heat spikes here and here.” Bau indicated two spots on the hull around the scanned area’s edges. “They appear to be repeating sequentially.”

“Could it have something to do with how the pilot went in and out?” Kaidan asked.

“It might,” Tali said glancing between the displays. “The ship seems to be maintaining the sequence on its own. As if it’s waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Soris asked.

“Oh, you _bash’tet_!” Yuna snapped impatiently. “For the pilot to return!” She glanced at Tali. “It’s an entry mechanism. If the pilot came out from there, there must be a way to activate it again externally.” 

“I’m all ears,” said Kaidan.

“I’ll need to try it myself,” Yuna said standing up from the console. “Just keep me on target with the scanner.”

“One moment!” said Bau sharply. “That hull is not inherently stable. Even a minor touch sets off an electrical burst of some sort. Nothing serious, but caution is warranted.”

“An electrical burst?” Yuna repeated. “Interesting!” She trotted off towards the docking bay.

Bau blinked. “Did I not explain properly?”

“It’s not you, sir,” Soris replied. “My sister merely believes that what makes something interesting is its level of the macabre.”

“You should know!” Yuna called back darkly.

She made her way through the doors once Soris had dropped the force field and tentatively approached the stinger, omni-tool in hand.

“Alright,” they heard her say over her enviro-suit’s radio. “How do I look?”

“You’re on target,” Soris answered. “A few more steps should put you right beneath the first heat point.”

“Got it.” Yuna raised her omni-tool and passed its scanner within an inch of the shimmering blue surface above. “I can see the point where the temperature’s rising. There’s something else too. Small streams of particles are passing across the hull’s surface. I think they’re traveling in between the two heat spots.”

Kaidan saw Bau glance at him and knew they were thinking the same thing. _What the heck kind of ship was this?_

“That would fit the wave readouts,” Tali observed. “Alright, keep going, but be careful. We don’t know how many other systems could still be running.”

“Acknowledged. I’m going to try to activate the entry mechanism now.”

They saw Yuna reach a hand out towards the hull, but almost at once she jumped back, withdrawing it.

“Are you hurt?” Tali called.

“No, no. I’m fine,” came the reply. “Just shocked. Heh, literally.”

Soris groaned.

“Okay, trying again.” Yuna reached up and once more pulled her hand back, but not as quickly. “I think I’ve got it. Hang on.” She extended her hand again and this time did not withdraw it. “It’s reacting!” she said, voice straining. “I can see the particle streams gathering around my fingers.”

“Heat signatures rising,” Soris chimed in from the console. “It’s definitely reading your touch.”

Even from a distance, Kaidan could see the sparks of blue light dancing above Yuna’s outstretched arm. Seconds later he thought he saw her extend it even further before jerking it back.

“I got through!” They heard Yuna cry. She was so excited they could have heard her even without the radio.

“Stay focused,” said Tali, though she sounded excited too. “What happened?”

“All it took was prologued pressure on the heat point,” Yuna answered. “If you can just resist the shocks, the hull gathers energy at the point and becomes soft, like a biotic bubble, and you can pass through.”

“Incredible,” Bau said, eyes growing wide. “Excuse me, please.” Without waiting for a response, he headed off to join Yuna in the docking bay.

Tali watched him go before saying privately to Kaidan, “He’s just as lively as they are.”

“Try working multiple assignments with him. I’m still not convinced he actually sleeps.”

Bau approached the stinger and conversed briefly with Yuna. “I think we may be able to enter the hold,” he said over the comm. “If my theory is correct, applying pressure to both heat points should do the trick.”

“Just be careful of the shocks,” Tali cautioned.

“No need to remind me.”

Kaidan saw Bau extend his hands upward, this time pressing upon the pair of heat points simultaneously. For a moment the hull sparked and crackled. Then the whole of Bau vanished as he was drawn upwards straight through the ship.

Kaidan blinked in astonishment. “Are you there?”

“Yes,” Bau’s crisp voice answered. “This is without question the oddest vessel I have ever boarded.”

“I’m coming up too!” Yuna said. Within seconds, she too disappeared through the hull.

“What do you see?” Tali asked.

“We appear to be standing in a cockpit of some kind,” answered Bau. “Narrow walls, low ceiling. In terms of aesthetics, everything looks the same. There are backboards but no seats. No controls either, unless it’s these pedestals to the front. There’s four of them, two on either side of the backboards about waist height.

“No interface of any kind?”

“Hang on,” Bau sounded as though he was moving around. “Ah! The pedestal surfaces react to touch as well. I’ll try to link them to my omni-tool.”

“I’m reading new signals from that part of the ship,” Soris confirmed. “Whatever you did, it activated something.”

“Keep talking us through,” Tali said. “What’s happening now?”

A somewhat confused overlap of communications followed this request as Bau and Yuna each attempted to report their own findings simultaneously.

“The pedestal surfaces react to each of my fingers. An energy current passes between, but it does not shock like the outside.”

“This cockpit is barely large enough for the two of us, but there’s a space that looks like it leads astern.”

“The pedestal input appears to vary depending on whether I tap or press the surface with my fingers, and how far apart I place them.”

“It’s even more cramped behind the backboards. No doors or hatches anywhere. Wait a bit though, this looks like a viewport.”

“A display just appeared in the cockpit’s windshield! I believe I have gained access to the ship’s computer.”

“I’m looking through the viewport now. There’s a cargo hold of some kind. Looks empty.”

“The display is up, but there are no characters, numbers, or symbols present. Only more of the same particle patterns we observed around the entry mechanism.”

“Hang on,” Kaidan interjected. “We’ve got the key for the Drej’s spoken language, right? Try using that to decipher the computer.” Although he couldn’t see his partner, Kaidan could tell the salarian was flooded with anticipation. He felt it too. If they could access the stinger’s memory banks, who knew what they might discover?

“This can’t be,” Bau said after a moment. “It’s an exact match.” 

Kaidan frowned. “Isn’t that good news?”

“Alenko,” Bau said a little impatiently, “it’s an _exact_ match. Normally, any language in the galaxy contains variations in its structure and grammar - however subtle - between what is uttered aloud and what is written down or typed. You know this.”

Kaidan saw what Bau was getting at. His frown changed to a look of surprise.

“According to our translators, there is no discernible difference whatsoever,” Bau continued, “between the files in this ship’s database and what was spoken by the pilot.”

“What kind of species could manage that?” Tali inquired.

No one answered.

“Let’s worry about that later,” Kaidan said. “We can read the files, that’s what matters. Bau, were you able to link the memory banks to your omni-tool?”

“Yes, let me patch you in. Stand by.”

Soris opened a fresh window on his monitor as Bau’s data feed began to come through. “Looks like a diagnostics readout,” he said, shifting in his seat as he skimmed. “Primary systems are clear. Next is chronometer records - _Keelah_ that’s a lot of light years - after that we’ve got maintenance checks, system bugs, glitches-”

“What about the mission log?” Kaidan interrupted. “Anything about the Drej’s objectives or targets? Where did the ship depart from?”

“Checking,” Soris said, fingers skittering across the keyboard. “This looks promising. ‘ _Droheh_ sub target: Bio-form space station. Local designation: _Citadel_.’ And the coordinates follow.”

“ _Droheh_?” Tali repeated.

“That’s it what it says,” Soris pointed at the screen. “Maybe it’s a Drej military rank?”

“Or a priority classifier?” Yuna suggested over the comm.

“Whatever it is, it explains the attack at least,” Kaidan said.

“Except the motivation behind it,” Bau reminded him. “We still don’t know _why_ they attacked.”

“There’s nothing about that here,” Soris said, scanning the log. “It’s already the bare minimum for 'what,’ 'where’ and ‘when.’”

Kaidan took a deep breath, trying to think. If the log was that discreet, finding out about other active missions, or where the mothership was hiding, seemed improbable at best. Still, they had a few cards left to play.

“Try to pull up the date or location of manufacture,” he instructed Soris.

The quarian’s fingers momentarily became a blur as he dashed through the files and systems readouts.

“Here’s something,” he said after a minute’s searching. “‘Orb genesis: Seventy-fifth iteration, cycle 3028. Reigning Queen, _Susquehanna._ Vessel delegated to _droheh_ , _Zehorah._ Re-delegated to _droheh, Sohalla_ , cycle 3044.’” He stared blankly at the screen. “This is starting to get outlandish. Are you sure the translation’s correct?”

Before Kaidan could answer, Yuna cut in over the comm, “Did you say ‘queen?’ You’re telling me these things have a monarchy?”

“I’m telling you what the file says,” Soris replied. “If you’re so skeptical why don’t _you_ read the files and _I’ll_ rub my omni-tool over anything that’s shiny.”

“How about instead you stick your omni-tool-”

“‘Orb genesis’ could be a reference to the manufacturer,” Bau remarked loudly. “Try running a cross filter search for ‘Orb’ and any associated coordinates.”

Soris typed in the parameters. “Got a hit. ‘Designated return: Success of purpose or Queen’s discretion, subject to override by Orb.’ And it gives coordinates again.”

“Pull them up on the galaxy map,” Tali commanded.

Soris cleared his display and opened a brand new window. In it was showcased the entire Milky Way as a vast spiral ocean of twinkling lights. Although only a small scale reconstruction, neither its beauty nor immensity was diminished. Soris entered the coordinates and the map zoomed in at once on a section in the upper right. Shortly after, it zoomed again, this time into a specific cluster, and then a final time revealing the coordinates to be in a system labeled Farinata.

“My god,” said Kaidan quietly. “Have we got it?”

“I think so.” Bau voice’s shook with excitement. “There is little of note to begin with in Farinata, and these coordinates are not for any planet. The mothership is most likely.”

Kaidan looked at Tali. Although her face was concealed, her eyes shone brighter than ever.

“Not bad, huh?” she said.

“Can’t imagine having come to anyone else.”

“Hey,” Soris began, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but there’s one more mission log. I just found it.” He pointed to the second monitor where he’d resumed his combing of the memory banks.

Kaidan glanced at it and felt his jaw drop.

Soris, who hadn’t noticed, was already reading it aloud, “‘ _Droheh c_ ollective target: Bio-form artifact proto-vessel. Local designation: _Titan_. Coordinates unknown.’ What do you suppose that’s about?”


	16. Solitude

Everything had stopped. The world no longer turned, the people in it no longer moved. All was motionless and could not be altered. It simply was. She simply was. But if time was really frozen then why was there pain? Why did she still fear? Did it matter? No, how could it? Nothing mattered now. Yet the fear persisted. She wanted to scream, but couldn’t. She remained helpless, trapped by the terrible stagnation. Then came the tears. They did move. Slowly at first. Each one gradually rolling down to become mixed with blood.

_This is as far as I go._

Athena’s eyes snapped open. She was lying on her back, cold darkness pressing in from all sides. The shattered remains of the walkway were strewn beneath her. She lay upon the largest of the fragments, its hard surface grinding into her back. Far, far above she could just make out the faint glow of the skyline. The alley. Garrus. The vorcha.

Athena shivered. Its bulging eyes still seemed to loom out of the darkness at her. Her body ached. She tried to raise her head, but immediately felt dizzy. She settled for tilting it to one side, trying to see where she was. To her alarm she saw the ground ended after only a few paces. Beyond was the same dismal chasm of the mine shaft that she had seen from above. She turned her head back and looked to the opposite side. A steep wall of dark gray rock met her gaze. It seemed to be damp because the surface glistened in the dim light and she thought she could hear the solitary drip of water falling off it.

Her eyes trailed back to the distant overhead. She was not at the bottom of the mine as she’d first supposed, but had clearly fallen a great distance. How had she survived? Her body continued to ache. She tried to raise her hands. They moved. Slowly and tenderly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her head spun, but she kept her eyes forward, focusing on a particularly shiny patch of wall. As her weight shifted, there came a sudden stab of pain from her leg. With a jolt of horror she remembered the shot that had penetrated her leg and the blood. The wound appeared to have stopped bleeding, yet she felt afraid to touch it. But she couldn’t just leave it alone. Not if she wanted to get out of here. Athena thought frantically.

_Medi-gel!_

Reaching into a pocket she produced one of the packs acquired from the comm-buoys. With trembling hands, she rolled up her pants leg. It was gruesome, but not as bad as she’d feared. The hole from the shot had passed through the fabric but only grazed the leg beneath. Nevertheless it turned her stomach to see the gash. The bleeding also seemed worse than it really was because of how much it had soaked into the garment.

Athena took a deep breath and gingerly applied the medi-gel as best she could. The wound stung painfully and made her grit her teeth. When she was done, she cast another glance around her. Her eyes had gotten used to the darkness now, and she could tell she was on some kind of ledge, jutting out from the wall of the chasm. There was no way up or down, but she thought there might be a gap in the space to the left where ledge and wall met.

Gritting her teeth once more, Athena tensed her leg muscles and tried to stand. Her first attempt failed dismally. She had barely raised herself a couple inches before losing balance. Her second attempt brought her higher, but ultimately accomplished nothing beyond a nasty throb from her wound as she sat down awkwardly. She tried again. And then again.

Though she hardly noticed it herself, a curious determination had taken hold of Athena. It was different than what she had felt during her fight with the vorcha. It was sterner and somehow managed to overpower her anxiety without debate.

After what seemed dozens of attempts, she finally managed to stand. Her body shook in places and ached in others. She tried to walk, but found her leg too weak from the wound to move without more support. Casting around, she spotted a metal rod that had broken off from the rest of the walkway. Picking it up and bracing herself with it, she tried to walk once more. This time it worked. She stepped off the shattered hulk and into something soft and wet. Athena realized with surprise that the whole of the ledge was coated in a deep layer of moss. It was unlike any back on Earth, thick to the point of being spongy when she touched it and left her fingers dripping with moisture. It had cushioned the impact from above and probably saved her life.

Athena limped over the moss, not caring that it soaked her shoes, until she felt her foot knock into something. Resting before her, its outline just discernible through the darkness, was the M-5 Phalanx pistol. She reached down and picked it up. As her hand closed around the grip, the targeting laser blinked back to life. Athena smiled to herself. Although useless to light her surroundings, she could at least get a sense of whether something faced her and its distance. She panned the laser over the wall until the dot vanished into the gap on the left. With increasingly long strides, she made her way towards the space and passed through.

The passage beyond was narrow but walkable, although there was even less light than before. The air was so close Athena found herself holding her breath as she moved. Once or twice she heard a rustling sound above her.

After several minutes of tense but uneventful traversing, the passageway opened up and brought Athena into a new space with higher walls and ceilings. Although it was nearly as dark as the passage, her eyes had adjusted enough to tell her this must be a service tunnel for the mine’s operations. Dark bulky shapes lined the sides of the tunnel at various intervals, and strings of lights were drawn above, though none were lit. Athena ventured up to the one of the shapes, trying to discern what it was, but she could only determine it to be some old piece of equipment long abandoned. The new tunnel ran both left and right, but apart from the side passage she’d come through no other way was visible.

Athena bit back her worry. There was nothing for it but to pick a side and hope for the best. Trying to orient herself with what little sense of direction was available, she noticed with the help of her pistol laser that the path to the left gradually curved away along the same direction further down. If her intuition was correct that meant it ultimately led back the way she had come, towards the shaft. Pressing her lips together defiantly, Athena turned and headed down the path to the right.

For some time she plodded on just as before, limbs stiff, wound smarting slightly. Her mouth had gone very dry, and her ears felt more alert than usual. Each step she took carried several times its normal loudness and generated a dismal echo whose only reply was the muffled thump of her walking brace. The tunnel ahead of her stretched away into blackness, sometimes curving, mostly leading straight ahead.

On and on it went. Hours seemed to pass and yet all the time in the galaxy could not have filled the gap between her and the exit. She began to feel lonely. The mine’s emptiness did not hold death the way the streets above had, but the sensation was still present. Athena knew as an asari that she was prone to be aware of such things in a way most species were not, but this offered small consolation for her weary heart. It did not help either how acutely aware she was of the dried blood on her face. Blood that was not hers. She pressed her mouth tighter and tried to keep her eyes on the blue laser dot.

_This tunnel can’t go on forever._

A blue glow broke through the darkness. Athena gazed at it with excitement but felt the eagerness depart as quickly as it had come. A chill rippled up her spine. Something told her that this light was not friendly.

She glanced around the tunnel. There was a large pile of storage crates propped against what looked an old power generator. Athena staggered over and hid herself as best as she could behind them. Through a gap in the generator’s frame she could just make out the path ahead and the light beyond, which was steadily growing brighter. She could hear sounds too. Hard heavy footsteps, drawing ever nearer. Overlapping. There was more than one. And then she saw them.

Drej. Athena knew instinctively what they were. Each one glowed the same chilling blue color as their ships. She counted four in total as they came down the tunnel. Their broad frames and angular bodies sent twisted shadows into the tunnel around them. Formulaic, yet fluid movements enhanced Athena’s unease, as did the featureless heads with the black holes at their centers, darkness gaping out at darkness.

Athena covered her mouth with a hand, the other clenching around her weapon. Fear pressed upon her head, but at the same time anger roiled inside her chest and stomach. The mix of emotions felt sickening. Her breath came in tiny gasps barely above a whisper. She tried to stay still, wishing her pulse would slow down. They were very close now. She could see the individual lines and glints of light dancing throughout their bodies. She couldn’t hope to defeat all four of them by herself. Not with her leg in the state that it was. She half hoped they might speak and perhaps give something away. A key for the Drej’s language had been broadcast along with the galaxy wide alert, and Garrus had updated both their translators with it on the way over, but to Athena’s dismay the Drej moved in silence.

She had just resigned herself to waiting until they had passed when something else sounded from overhead. A distant clattering, then a series of bumps like something heavy being dropped repeatedly. The Drej halted in their tracks and aimed their barrel guns at the ceiling. Athena shrank down where she crouched. The feeling of uneasiness inside her spiked.

There was a crash. Peeking out from her hiding place, Athena had a blurred impression of something huge on four legs bursting out of the tunnel wall. She stifled a cry and shut her eyes. There was a chorus of chilling shrieks that were all too familiar and she knew the Drej had opened fire. Then came another cry. It was low and guttural, and reminded Athena of bubbling liquid. A scuffle, a bang and something struck hard against the pile of crates Athena was hiding behind. She clutched herself, willing it to be over. A moment later it was. The sound of heavy footfalls moving quickly down the tunnel faded away, leaving the silence even heavier than it was before.

Athena opened her eyes. A blue glow still hung about the tunnel. She could see the shadows it cast stretching across the ceiling above her. There was no change in their length. Were the Drej still there but not moving? Had they been killed? The pile of crates in front of her had been disturbed by the fight. Some had fallen over.

Athena tried to stand. She could feel her body trembling as it had after the attack on the Citadel. Stumbling out from her place of concealment, she saw a single Drej lying against the front of the crates. Both legs and one of its arms were pinned beneath the crates that had toppled. There was no sign of the other three, nor of the thing that had come from the wall. She would normally have been unnerved by this departure, but seeing the helpless avatar of her torment pushed all other thoughts away.

Athena stared at the Drej unblinkingly. It gave no indication that it was aware of her. She held her weapon so that the laser dot rested right upon the Drej’s head. Taking a deep breath, she said as bravely she could muster, “Who are you?”

The Drej was silent.

Athena tried again. “Who are you? _What_ are you?

Again no response.

“Say something!” Athena’s anger flared. She gave the pistol a little shake. “Talk or you’re dead!”

Still the Drej did not reply.

Athena raised the weapon and fired a round into the ceiling. The blast echoed menacingly in the empty tunnel.

“Talk!” she shouted again.

The Drej stayed motionless. She might have yelled at the wall for all the notice it took.

Athena’s breathing was heavy from anger. The Drej was alone and powerless. She couldn’t waste this chance. But how to make it answer her? A sudden thought struck her and she shivered with disgust.

The natural bonding ability of her species could be used for more than taking in genetic material for reproduction. It could also be applied to connect on a simple telepathic level to another’s consciousness. Most asari used this to share joyful memories or feelings with friends, but it could just as easily be employed to explore another’s mind for information. And secrets.

What made Athena shiver was the prospect of doing so with the Drej. Everything about them seemed unnatural. There was no telling what connecting to this one might bring. In the end, however, her anger and thirst for answers overpowered her reluctance. Emboldened by this desire, she walked right up the Drej and extended her hand.

 _Ready or not,_ she thought, closing her eyes. Her thoughts drew inwards and a calm flowed into her body.

In a loud voice she cried, “Embrace eternity!” and pressed her hand against the Drej’s head.

The tunnel around them vanished. Athena felt herself leave the physical world as her mind linked to the Drej’s. Lights winked in and out around her. Curious noises, humming, whispers, distant cries of words she did not recognize floated past. The black void around her took shape and she began to catch familiar glimpses of planets she knew and places she’d seen: Elysium, Palaven, the Citadel, and Earth. She trembled at the sight of her home. Hurriedly she pushed further into the Drej’s mind, forcing it to unfold at her command as she sought to reveal its past, where it came from, and its reasons for being.

_Why did you destroy Earth? What do you want?_

The Drej seemed confused by her mental presence. It made no attempt to resist her efforts, but neither did it respond. Athena concentrated on applying pressure. With as many brain cells as she could engage, Athena imagined the galaxy of the Drej’s mind being slowly, relentlessly constricted into nothing by an unseen force. Pressing this notion, she felt the Drej recoil. 

_Tell me what I want to know, or I’ll wring it from you thought by thought!_

The Drej’s mind bent under her ferocity. In this state there was no need for a translator.

_It was our collective target._

_What was?_

_The world you called Earth,_ the Drej told her slowly.

 _Why?_ Athena demanded.

_It was the Orb’s will and the Queen concurred._

_I don’t care who ordered it! Why Earth? Why did you target it specifically?_

The Drej hesitated.

Athena clamped down on its consciousness again. She felt the creature’s mind squirming in apprehension. She felt a grim satisfaction.

 _Your world housed a threat,_ the Drej relinquished. _We sought to eliminate it._

 _What are you talking about?_ Athena was puzzled. _Your species is new to this galaxy. No one from Earth had even heard of you until you attacked us!_

 _There was a threat,_ the Drej repeated. _The Orb wills, the Queen sees, and we are purpose_. 

_Enough!_ Athena sent a flood of shockwaves cascading through the Drej’s mind.

It reeled from her, alarmed by pain for which no words existed.

_If you don’t know everything, who does? Where is the mothership?_

A cluster appeared in the mind of the Drej. It expanded to become a system, then a location where she saw it, the mothership hovering vast and silent amidst the blackness of space.

_It’s there now?_

_Yes._

_And the Queen?_

_She is always there._

_Who or what is the ‘Orb’?_

Before the Drej could reply, a new presence suddenly entered their connection. It seemed to come from the Drej, but within moments had grown so large and powerful it overwhelmed Athena. She felt her own mind being pushed back as the presence wrenched the Drej out of her control. Startled by the intrusion, she cast about in an effort to steady the connection. The presence continued to expand and take shape within their shared realm of consciousness. There came a visage of something like the Drej, but taller and sleeker, almost insect-like, glinting out of the blackness. It gave no sign of trying to exert its will over Athena, but neither could she sense a way around it. The presence seemed to be considering her. She felt cold and unexpectedly vulnerable, as if being observed through a telescope. After a moment, the presence spoke to the Drej, but Athena nevertheless understood the exchange.

 _Usanna, status_.

 _Immobilized,_ the Drejresponded.

_Where are your fellow droheh?_

_Scattered. We were attacked by an unknown bio-form._

_Who is the girl?_

_One of the asari bio-forms._

_Her local designation?_

_Unknown._

_What is the status of the collective target?_

_No new information._

The presence seemed irritated by this reply. _Resume at once._ It commanded. _If unable to comply,_ c _ommence final purpose._ A moment later the presence had withdrawn as swiftly as it had come.

Athena was about to resume to her own questioning when she felt a tremor run through the space around them. The dark walls of the mining tunnel suddenly reappeared as she was plunged back into the physical world with a painful lurch. The Drej and she were no longer alone.

A creature stood blocking the way ahead. The outline of its grotesque bulk was blurred against the tunnel’s inky darkness and the faint glow from the Drej’s body. It was bow-legged on two feet, not four as Athena had supposed, but its form was bent double with long knotted arms dangling just above the ground. Even in the darkness, the reason for its posture was plain. An enormous bloated sack protruded from the creature’s back. Slime dripped lazily down the folds of membrane, which glowed a ghastly white. The rest of the creature was murky indigo and seemed neither skin, flesh, nor bone, but an atrocious cocktail of all three. Worst of all was the creature’s face. Instead of a mouth, there was only an outpouring mass of veined tendrils, each pulsating with enough vileness to send even a vorcha’s stomach churning in disgust. Above this misshapen cascade, set into a sunken skull and masked by its hollowness, was a pair of glowing round eyes. They were pupil-less and devoid of all sentient notion, save one: survival.

The desperate terror of the situation at last broke through, rooting Athena to the spot. Her legs shook. Her weapon hand fell at her side. Mixed in with the fear was rebuke. What had she been thinking, shouting at the Drej? Firing her weapon? Of course it had heard her!

The creature charged with sudden speed. In a panic, Athena stumbled back.Her leg gave a nasty throb and she fell hard on her rear end. She saw the creature bear down upon the hapless Drej, still pinned under the crates. Its body began to glow and shake violently as the creature pressed a hideous leg upon it.

Athena realized what was happening and braced herself for the explosion. With a gurgling howl, the creature seemed to call forth a glowing ball of light from out of its right hand. Athena, half-amazed and half-terrified, recognized the light as biotic energy.

The creature threw the field at the Drej, engulfing its victim. The Drej became disoriented and the intensity of its glow lessened. Weightless from the field, it floated helplessly in the air. The creature struck it with one its disfigured hands and sent the Drej barreling down the tunnel into the opposite wall near Athena. The field vanished on impact and at once the Drej exploded into electric blue plasma. For the second time that day, Athena felt herself hurled back as if she’d been nothing more than a strip of cloth. A splitting pain burst through her head. Her eyes swam and she felt her body slump to the ground.

 _No…_ she thought distantly. She couldn’t stop. That thing was going to kill her next!

Blearily, she saw the horrible silhouette advancing towards her, its glowing eyes floating ominously in the darkness. She tried to move, but everything was fading.

From a long way off, she thought she heard someone shouting. Garrus? She tried to keep her eyes open, but it was no use. The last remnants of her energy expended, her head collided with the ground as she fainted.

***

“How much so far?”

“About five milliliters.”

“Reduce the dosage. She’ll manage and there’s still no telling when we’ll get a resupply. Have you seen Daniel?”

“He just stepped out for a moment.”

“Get him back in. Tell him that elcor’s cough has flared up again. Now, where’s that scanner hiding this time?”

“Maelon, the heart rate’s increasing. I think she’s waking up.”

“Who is?”

“The asari child.”

“I’ll be there in a moment.”

The attentive face of a young human woman in a white lab coat slowly morphed into focus above Athena.

“It’s alright,” the woman said. “You're going to be fine.”

Athena tried to speak, but her mouth didn’t seem to remember how to open. “W-where?” she murmured faintly.

“You’re in a clinic on the eastern side of the Gozu district.” The speaker was a salarian wearing a uniform of the same type as the woman, but with a red and brown insignia over the left arm. He smiled sympathetically at Athena as he approached and inclined his head. “I’m Dr. Maelon Heplorn. I run this facility. You were brought in unconscious with severe bruising, some minor fractures and a gunshot wound. Luckily, infection hadn’t set in yet and the medi-gel you’d applied helped to prevent further blood loss. You’ll need to rest a while, but you should make a full recovery.”

Athena’s mind was turning over. A thousand questions formed inside only to be repelled by her mouth’s sluggishness. She nodded groggily to show she understood.

“Very good,” said Maelon. He gestured to the woman. “My assistant, Dr. Helms. If you need anything either she or my other assistant, Dr. Abrams, can assist. I’ll be back later to check on you. Excuse me.” He strode over to a neighboring bed where a heavily bandaged turian was moaning softly.

Dr. Helms remained at Athena’s bedside. She was a thin-set woman with short hair, brown skin and hazel eyes. Athena guessed her to be in her mid thirties. She leaned over and smoothed the bedding. “Try to sleep some more, alright? You’ve had a pretty a rough time of it.”

Even if she’d had the energy, Athena couldn’t think what to reply. She gave a half-shrug and settled into the bed.

It was strange lying there. The sequence of twists in her journey seemed no longer good or bad. Just strange. Everything on Omega up to now had been one endless river of torment. How was it possible a place like this clinic existed? Or that it could have such comfortable beds? Athena closed her eyes and slept.

Her body felt stiff when she awoke, but her head was clearer. She sat up slowly and looked around. The wing of the clinic was small with about a dozen other beds spaced inside. Most were occupied, although each patient appeared to be either asleep or in no state to converse. The turian covered in bandages had ceased his moaning and now occasionally gave a stifled grunt as he slept.

The light in the room was dim and the walls and ceiling were both of the same grey-blue metal. Craning her neck slightly, Athena noticed an open doorway into what looked like a larger room beyond. 

A middle-aged man, balding with a brown beard, walked in as she looked. Seeing she was awake, he came over.

“I’m Dr. Daniel Abrams. How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” Athena said, truthfully.

“That’s good to hear. Maelon and I ran some tests while you were resting. Your blood levels are back to normal and the wound should be all healed in a day or so. The fractures’ll take a little longer, but you should be able to move. Any aches or pains?”

“I’m fine. Listen, Maelon mentioned earlier I was brought here. Who did that?”

“Oh,” Daniel said, glancing over his shoulder. “ Didn’t Maelon tell you? You've had a visitor waiting to see you. Must have been him.”

Athena blinked in surprise. “Is he a turian?”

“No,” said a deep voice from outside the door. “He is not a turian.” The speaker came into the room as he spoke, and Athena’s mouth fell open.

He was a being roughly six feet in height with broad shoulders and lean limbs. His pale hairless skin was smoothed tight with few lines, over which he was clad in battle armor of an elegant, but unknown design. The armor was dark red and appeared to be an intricate series of interlocking plates, rather than just a few large pieces. Over the back of the armor was holstered an ancient-looking, but beautiful rifle. It was made of a polished silver metal Athena didn’t recognize. Blue light glowed from along a narrow section of its barrel.

Covering the visitor’s head was a crest of brown cranial plates growing steadily thicker as they extended back across his scalp. Beneath these were not two, but four eyes, two in front, the others on either side. All were bright yellow and contained double pupils slightly overlapping.

They had never met before, but Athena would have recognized him anywhere.

“Javik,” she said hoarsely.

The last prothean nodded. She could hardly believe he was standing there.

“I’m-” she began.

“I know who you are,” Javik interposed. “Athena, daughter of Liara and the commander.” He strode calmly up to her bedside and stared down at her with all four of his eyes. “This is an unusual place to meet.”

Daniel glanced awkwardly between them. “I’ll give you some space, try and keep your voices down if you can.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Athena waited until he had gone before saying with suppressed excitement, “You’re really here! We’ve been looking for you.”

“We?”

“Garrus and me. I-” She stopped suddenly as she realized Garrus still didn’t know where she was. Would he figure out what’d happened? A fresh wave of helplessness and guilt washed over her. She didn’t have an omni-tool and even if she’d had, she wasn’t sure how to contact his.

Javik continued to watch her. His side eyes occasionally swiveled about, but the two in front were steady.

“Did you bring me here?” Athena asked, trying to shake off her worries.

“Yes. I found you collapsed in the mines and an adjutant about to end your life.”

“A what?”

“An adjutant. Sub-Reaper variants. They roam at large through the darkest parts of this station.”

Athena’s breath caught in her throat. “That thing was - what are you saying? I thought the Reapers were dead.”

“They are,” Javik replied. “The adjutants are not true Reapers. Once I suspect they were their own species in a time long before either of us drew breath. But the Reapers enslaved and doubtless experimented on them until only tools remained. Now they are merely the last desperate hounds of masters who have long since abandoned them. A truly pitiful existence,” he finished bitterly.

Athena sat stunned. She knew from the vids how serious Javik’s demeanor could be, but it was much more in person. An air of grave wisdom hung about the prothean and a sternness that seemed to run even deeper than Aria’s had. Athena found she couldn’t hold his gaze for very long.

“Now, I will ask you a question,” Javik said. “For what purpose were the two of you seeking me?”

Carefully, Athena reached into her pocket and produced the echo shard. Its glow was magnified in the dim light of the clinic. Javik’s expression remained impassive, but each of his eyes became alive with new focus as he gazed upon the relic.

“Garrus said you used to keep this in your room on the Normandy,” Athena supplied. “I’m guessing you gave it to my mother after the war.”

“I gave it to the commander,” Javik said. He stared even harder at the shard as if expecting it to recite a monologue. “Do you know what this is?”

“A prothean echo shard.”

“Do you know what it does?”

Athena shook her head.

“It is a window into memories. My people used it to store everything from locations around the empire, to records of great battles and victories,” his face darkened, “and later on: warnings, grief and pain from our fight against the Reapers.” He closed his two front eyes and was silent for a time.

Athena hardly noticed. It was as if the pieces of a puzzle she’d been stuck on for days had finally started to fit. “Could my father put memories on here too?”

Javik opened his eyes. “I passed the shard onto him for expressly that purpose.” He considered Athena. “Is this the sole reason you sought me?”

Athena glanced around the room to make sure they were not being overheard. None of the nearby patients seemed awake. She leaned in towards Javik. “Not quite.”

Javik stayed silent while Athena explained in half-whispers everything that had happened to her since the attack on Earth. His face changed only once when she told him about the _Titan_ and what it could it do. When she’d finished he swept his side gaze around several times in contemplation. 

After a long pause Javik said, “if there is one thing primitives are good at, it is constantly finding new ways to surprise me.”

Athena gave a half-smile. “Your people ever make anything like this?”

“The empire accomplished many wondrous feats,” said Javik, “I will refrain from detailing them all to you, but no. Even at the height of our time, the creation of a world was little more than fantasy.”

“Well, it’s going to stay a fantasy if we don’t find my father,” Athena replied. She held the shard out to Javik. “If he’s stored the _Titan’s_ location on here as a memory, can you find it?”

Javik eyed the shard with his front eyes, while the side ones considered Athena. He shook his head. “I have no desire to see what is on there.”

Athena frowned. “What?”

“I told you, the shard is a window into _memories_. It is not simply information to be glanced over at leisure. Everything on it contains the feelings and even the sensations present at the time of the memories’ occurrence. Unless you are careful, you will quickly lose yourself within them.” Javik’s expression became mournful. “I have no wish to relive the atrocities my people suffered at the hands of the Reapers. Not even to see what the commander may have left.”

Athena’s stomach clenched. “But you’re the only one who knows how to use it. Please,” her voice broke. “Look at what I came through to find you.”

Javik gently pushed away her hand. “I am not the only one.”

She stared at him.

“To access the shard, one must be able to understand not only the language of my species, but our culture, our very essence at its fullest. Without that knowledge, it would be as if you attempted to read a book that contained only random unmarked pictures. There are five in this galaxy who could do it: the commander, Liara, myself, an asari by the name of Shiala, and,” all four of his eyes turned, “you.”

Athena blinked. “I don’t speak prothean,” she said slowly.

Javik looked at her curiously. “Did the commander never tell you of his encounter on Feros?”

Athena looked down awkwardly. “Not really. I just know the name.”

Javik gave a slight sniff. “I do not understand human parenting. It is continually impractical. To make a long story brief, the commander acquired through great pains a genetic cipher of my people when he was there. This cipher allowed my species’ language and culture to become as much a part of him as were his own.” Javik pointed at Athena. His hands were nimble and each of the fingers ended in a shiny balled tip like a miniature globe. “I am not unfamiliar with asari biology. Your mother took in the cipher herself when she bonded with the commander, and in turn passed it on to you. You can use the shard as surely as either of them.”

The words filled Athena’s mind. She felt her breath catch and her heart leap in sudden vigor.

This was it.

Wordlessly, not even daring to breathe, she took the shard in both hands and closed her eyes. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. Her thoughts flowed inwards and the space around her vanished. Yet she was still aware of Javik’s presence. He seemed both there and not at the same time. A whirl of colors engulfed her. Sounds and smells flittered about. Gradually, the memories began to take shape.

She saw planets and, on them, cities the likes of which she would never have conceived. There were palaces and plazas full of people. Civilians, artists, scholars, soldiers, scientists, and politicians, each one rigorously engaged in their craft. Everywhere one went, there was an atmosphere of pride and awe.

Time passed. Years became decades, and decades turned into centuries. Athena watched the mighty prothean empire continue to expand and dominate all that it touched. Other species who opposed fell wailing before its peerless force. Those that surrendered were allowed to continue living under the empire’s domain and in turn came to call themselves “prothean.” In fact, the _galaxy_ was prothean. From the heart of it all, upon the Citadel, the protheans ruled and none dared challenged them….

A shadow formed. It moved in darkness, outside the bright edge of the galaxy. Uncertainty turned to fear. The shadow spilt and became many. Suddenly the shadows burst through onto the Citadel and their horror was realized in an instant.

The Reapers had come.

Panic. Death. Screams! Athena felt herself recoiling at the carnage. A blast like a gigantic foghorn blared out overhead. Beams of red light flashed across the ground, disintegrating whatever they caught in their glare. The terror was unfathomable. She was going to die too. She would surely drown in this sea of destruction, or burn in its fires.

 _Look past it._ Javik’s voice seemed to come from another dimension.

 _I can’t!_ Athena thought desperately. _There’s too many of them. I can’t get away!_

 _This war is not yours. Look beyond it. Look for your own time_.

With a colossal effort, Athena gritted her teeth and pushed as hard as she could against the shard, forcing the memories apart. Slowly but steadily the scenes of death subsided.

She forged on ahead, gradually at first, then faster. Something about the memories was changing….

She was standing on the bridge of a ship. Through the windows she could see Earth, large and beautiful against the void around it. The ship was ascending rapidly. She could feel the rumbling of its thrusters. There was something else in the window, another ship, larger than any she’d ever seen.

_The Drej._

As she watched, the mothership opened fire on Earth. Athena had never seen the planet from space during the attack. The sheer helplessness of it all from this angle made her eyes fill with tears. She pushed forward again, not wanting to see what happened next.

The ship flew to the Charon mass relay. From there it warped to a cluster, Artemis Tau, then further within to the Knossos system. There was a planet there. Someplace important. No, sentimental? The ship remained above the planet only briefly before it jumped again. It sped through streams of light until finally it came to rest…where? A set of coordinates blinked out upon a control terminal. Outside the ship’s windows something floated by. In fact, _many_ somethings were floating by. The ship was surrounded by an asteroid field. A field in a system adjacent to Knossos!

With a final tremendous exertion, Athena pulled herself out from the echo shard. The dim walls of the clinic reformed around her. Sweat trickled down her forehead and her eyes were damp. 

Javik stood exactly as he had been, watching her expectantly.

“I’ve got it,” Athena said, voice trembling. “I know where the _Titan_ is.”


	17. Fourth Reminiscence

Westerlund News Archives

Broadcast Transcript #03062012. Original Air Date - 11/07/2196

**Khalisah al-Jilani** : _This is Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani for Westerlund News. I’m joined in the studio today by none other than Normandy crew member, Systems Alliance hero and the second human spectre in galactic history, Major Kaidan Alenko._

**Kaidan Alenko** : _Thank you._

**Khalisah:** _Major, with the war now firmly behind us, a lot of people are wondering, what should humanity’s main focus be for the future?_

**Kaidan:** _Hmm, I’m guessing what you really mean is, ‘do I agree with all that recent buzz about deals with the Terminus systems?’_

**Khalisah:** _Well, do you?_

**Kaidan:** _Not really. The Terminus systems are lawless for a reason and if the war couldn’t change that then no amount of negotiating will either._

**Khalisah:** _If that’s the case then what is your alternative to the Alliance’s proposed expansions? As you’re surely aware, the Council’s decision to reserve territory in the Skyllian Verge for the krogan all but cuts off humanity’s chief venue._

**Kaidan:** _It’s not a question of space. This is a big galaxy. No matter where we go what I hope the Alliance keeps in mind is how best to preserve the flow of information between colonies._

**Khalisah:** _Can you elaborate?_

**Kaidan** : _Most worlds are still overly dependent on comm buoys. One of the biggest obstacles during the war was limited communication. Aside from a few top of the line vessels and any planet lucky enough to have a quantum entangler, most people were gunning on their own with intel that was outdated._

**Khalisah:** _That seems like a debatable stance given the way things turned out._

**Kaidan:** _Well sure, thanks to Shepard we were able to unite when it counted, but that’s sort of my point. We were ultimatelyforced to rely on exceptionalism, and there’s no telling if it would work again. Things shouldn’t have to be like that._

**Khalisah:** _So you believe that despite all humanity’s efforts we’ve actually come up short?_

**Kaidan:** _Of course not. Look, we’ve had nearly a decade now to recover from the war, and it shows. Production, trade, population growth - you name it. The issue isn’t ‘are we making progress’ so much as ‘are we maintaining our connections?’_

**Khalisah:** _Changing topics, what are your thoughts on the recent dissolution of the batarian empire?_

**Kaidan:** _It’s sad news. I know they’d been in discussions with the Council for a while, but that doesn’t make it any less tragic._

**Khalisah:** _You don’t believe the decision is a ploy by the batarian hegemony, as some intelligence outlets are claiming?_

**Kaidan:** _Not a bit. The batarians lost even more than we did during the war. Hopefully reopening their embassy and mixing back in with the rest of the galaxy will get them the support they need._

**Khalisah:** _Humanity’s relationship with the batarians has always been contentious to say the least. Some figureheads, including Vice President Saracino from Terra Nova, have said that given our history this outcome is for the best. Do you agree?_

**Kaidan:** _No._

**Khalisah:** _I see. Next, by popular demand from our viewers, it’s a well-known fact that you first served under Commander Shepard in 2183 and then again during the war three years later. It’s also a well-known fact, however, that you were first given the chance to rejoin the commander much earlier during an unexpected reunion on Horizon. What our audience would like to know is why didn’t you do so then?_

**Kaidan:** _Is this really what people are curious about? I’ve been to a lot of interviews now and not one of them has asked me that._

**Khalisah:** _Now Major, other networks have their areas of focus and we have ours. We do our best to take the collective interest of the viewers into account and consider the addressing of their queries the least we can provide in return._

**Kaidan:** _Fine. If you really want to know, the reason I didn’t was because I was still with the Alliance at the time and Shepard wasn’t. I was also in the middle of another mission when we met and couldn’t risk jeopardizing it. Joining up with the commander would have meant disobeying my orders. I couldn’t do that then. Not even for Shepard._

**Khalisah:** _You say it was to keep in line with Alliance regulations, but that doesn’t seem to have been an issue before, given the lengths you and Shepard went to take down Saren._

**Kaidan:** T _hat’s not a fair comparison._

**Khalisah:** _It also doesn’t look like it interfered during the war either considering, frankly, the majority of missions you undertook._

**Kaidan:** _Again, I don’t think that’s fair. Shepard and I were assigned together to the Normandy long before we set out to stop Saren. And that’s how it stayed. Even when things got rough, the Alliance was what we served under. Same for the war. After Shepard was reinstated we just picked up where we left off. As for our missions, well, if you can find any mission from that war where no rules were broken it’ll be the first I’ve heard of._

**Khalisah:** _Your devotion to the Alliance is of course beyond question. Everybody here will always be grateful to you and the commander for what you’ve done. But can you honestly claim that it was only military protocol that kept you back on Horizon? Was there really no other reason?_

**Kaidan:** _If there was, it doesn’t matter now. The commander is the best man I know. That won’t ever change, no matter where we are or what we’re doing. And if Shepard ever needs me for something again, I’ll be there. We all will._


	18. Surge

Deep within the vast confines of the mothership, a solitary drone approached the immaculate wall of energy beyond which their ruler dwelt. Inches away from the particle-streaked surface, it halted.

Although summoned, the drone understood it was expected to wait. The leader of its species oversaw more doings simultaneously than the rest combined. Time was precious and attention to mere _droheh_ like itself doubly so.

The drone bore no grudge towards this truth, of course. Neither did its fellows.

_The Orb wills, the Queen sees, and we are purpose._

A ripple of energy passed down the wall. Slowly, a shape began to materialize on the other side. A pair of refined hands glowing with light gestured the drone to alertness.

 _“Droheh Veshaya, report on the collective target,”_ the Queen of the Drej commanded in a voice that would have chilled the very soul of any non-Drej, had they been present.

The drone bowed its head. _“The target is not on the human bio-form worlds designated ‘Elysium’ or ‘Eden Prime.’ Nor is it on the salarian bio-form world designated, ‘Sur’kesh.’The target’s status remains unknown.”_

“ _What of the worlds ‘Palaven’ and ‘Thessia?’”_

_“Bio-form resistance is strongest there, we remain unable to confirm.”_

The Queen swept a hand over the wall in annoyance, making the particles dance and crackle. _“Deploy additional droheh for purpose of destruction. I will see to the infiltration teams myself. You are dismissed.”_

The drone turned and headed off into the mothership’s endless network of passages, while the Queen returned to the central chamber where the Orb resided.

It sat, or rather floated, large, white and bursting with energy, inside the mysterious trappings that had been built to contain it. And its immeasurable power.

The Queen eyed it nonchalantly. To most of her kind, the Orb appeared as divine and enigmatic as it would to a stranger. She was not entirely sure herself precisely when or how the Orb had first come to exist as it did, inside the heart of the mothership. What she did know was that it was theirs and theirs alone.

The Queen took a moment to ponder her next course of action. She could pressure the infiltration squads all she wanted, but the frustrating reality was that their competence was clearly lacking. Would supplements be needed?

* _SUPPLEMENTS WITH GREATER PURPOSE TO SECRECY. CONCUR._ *

The will of the Orb resonated throughout the shimmering blue chamber.

The Queen acquiesced. Moving up to the Orb, she extended a glistening hand and, with fingers spread, rested it atop the shining surface.

The Orb rumbled and blinding rays of light began emitting out from its spherical innards. The light rays gradually began to draw closer and coalesce with one another. Their hue changed from white to blue and began taking shape. The rays solidified and before long a new drone stood before the Queen, ready to receive its duty.

 _“We are Drej_ ,” said the Queen. _“We are pure. We are purpose.”_

 _“We are Drej. We are pure. We are purpose,” t_ he drone repeated.

It shook slightly where it stood as the Queen then reached into its mind, filling it with all necessary information. When she was finished, the Orb rumbled again.

_*CONCUR*_

The drone bowed its head respectfully and left the room.

The Queen repeated this process several times until the new infiltration teams were complete. There was no doubt these would fare better. She had purposely instilled extreme discretion into their consciousness for every action they might take, and the Orb had proceeded to coat their light-filled bodies in an extra, thicker layer of _sglum_ so as to avoid detection. It had proven a successful approach before. This was simply a necessary upgrade. After all, the Queen reflected, up to this point all major stealth operations had gone perfectly. That ambush with the artifact proto-vessel notwithstanding, of course. Still, it could have been worse. At least the bio-forms appeared not to have realized what artifact technology was meant for. There was still time.

The Orb gave an unexpected shudder. Jerked out of her musings, the Queen started back to where the Orb rested and reached out her hand again, trying to stabilize it. Gradually, the rumblings subsided, but left the Queen feeling uneasy. It should not be so after only a handful of specialization _droheh_. Was the problem getting worse? 

While knowledge of how to harness the Orb’s power was something every queen possessed, they had little knowledge of how to repair the Orb if it ever showed signs of damage. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more the Queen wondered whether her predecessors had believed the Orb _could_ be damaged. But there was no denying now that it was. The damage came from a battle that had occurred long before the Drej ever set foot in this galaxy, and the details were of little importance to the Queen now. What did matter was that since then the Orb had begun to show signs of instability. Carrying out her species’ purpose was more crucial now than ever. The Queen glided gracefully over to another section of the chamber where a series of panels was outlined in the glimmering wall. Something else was bothering her too.

Ever since arriving in this galaxy, she had continually come across references to one bio-form in particular. A human with the local designation ‘Shepard.’ This human was clearly someone of a similar capacity to the other bio-forms as she was to the Drej. Shehad therefore not been surprised at all to discover that the human was the one in charge of the proto-vessel’s construction.

Her decision following the discovery, on the other hand, had been rather spontaneous but nevertheless in line with the Orb’s will. After all, if the Drej were to spread their light across every galaxy there was, what use was an artifact in the hands of bio-forms? At best, it was an insulting postulation to the Drej’s legacy and at worst, it was an outright threat. The eradication of the bio-forms and their world housing the vessel had made perfect sense at the time.

Unfortunately, not all had gone as desired. The vessel had escaped before the eradication was complete, and her stingers had failed to properly intercept it. Worse still, all attempts to locate it again had so far resulted in a veritable cornucopia of nothing. It was not on the station called ‘the Citadel,’ nor any of the other worlds her _droheh_ had scoured. Whichever way the Queen looked at it, the Shepard bio-form was the key to this.

Reaching out to the panels in front of her now, the Queen accessed an image of Shepard that one of her _droheh_ had come across. She carefully studied its features, assessing for both potential threats and vulnerabilities. As she examined the bio-form’s eyes and facial structure, something familiar stood out to her. Switching to another panel, the Queen once more drew upon the Orb and peered into the recorded memory of the drone _Usanna._ She had sent _Usanna_ and several _droheh_ on a scouting mission weeks ago only to learn upon checking in that they had become separated and, in _Usanna’s_ case, immobilized. Scanning through the drone’s memories, the Queen paused the recollection on an image of the small asari bio-form who had accosted _Usanna_. She had not given her much thought initially, but now she peered back and forth between her image and the one of Shepard with great interest. Eyes, jawline, facial marks, and several skeletal configurations all matched. Were the two connected?

The Queen did not know much about how bio-forms’ identities were generated. Partly because what she did know she found to be bewildering, if not vulgar. Unlike the Drej, bio-forms seemed to exist in endless physical variety, could become infected with microbes and, if they were not killed, always died anyway simply due to existing past a certain amount of time; to say nothing of their incomprehensibly grotesque methods of procreation. But looking at the images before her, even the Queen could not fail to perceive how much these two shared. One thing always led inevitably to another.

With a rush of energy drawn from the Orb, the Queen extended herself beyond the ship, far away into a group of stars with a glowing red space station.

 _Hervasa,_ she commanded silently, y _ou have a new sub purpose:_ _gather all available droheh and locate this bio-form._ She filled the distant drone’s head with the image on the panel. _Do not kill her. She will show us the way to the collective target._

 _Acknowledged_ , came the reply.

The Queen severed the connection and watched the Orb a moment longer. No matter how many cycles passed, she would see its will met. Nothing would stop the Drej’s light. Not the dark expanse of space, not this budding usurpation of their technology, nor any so-called leaders among the bio-forms. Light conquered all and theirs was brighter than the stars themselves. In a universe riddled with impurity, they alone held perfection.

 _We are purpose_.


	19. Infiltration

Kaidan stared solemnly out the windows of the officers’ mess. The _Uma_ was continuing its orbit above Asteria and he could easily make out the continents. There were colonies down there. Some of them human. With families.

The sound of Tali’s voice brought him out from his thoughts. “Sorry, what?” he said, turning in his chair.

“I was just asking if you knew whether the _Titan’s_ escape pods were functional. Maybe Shepard got away?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t get much time to look over the plans before the Drej attacked,” Kaidan frowned, considering. “But assuming they were, it doesn’t make sense for Shepard to abandon the _Titan_ only to lie low. That footage he left at Therum is the only clue we’ve got to his whereabouts, he knows that.”

“Hmm,” Tali said. “There’s no question about the need for discretion with a ship like that. But if Shepard could be alive, I don’t understand why the Council wouldn’t at least order _somebody_ to search for him.”

“Me neither,” Kaidan admitted. “Then again the Council’s not exactly known for acting on hunches.”

“That’s certainly true.” Tali twiddled her fingers. “I hope he’s alright.” She sounded wistful.

“Garrus and Athena will find him. I wouldn’t worry.”

“You really think they can?”

“Yeah, you didn’t hear them when they said so. Garrus had the same look he always used to get before missions and Athena, well, that’s some spirit she’s got.”

“You said it was actually her idea that they look for the _Titan_?” Tali laughed. “She’s definitely his daughter.”

The doors to the mess hall slid open. Bau entered with his usual briskness.

“Finished?” asked Kaidan.

“More or less,” Bau replied, taking the seat across from Tali. He produced a data pad and held it out. “Our subsequent inspection unearthed a fair amount on the stinger’s operational capabilities, but not much else in the way of the Drej culture or biology.”

“Well, let’s hear the good news, at least,” said Kaidan.

Bau tapped the data pad and a miniature vid window opened. “Our first discovery after you stepped out was how to operate the stinger’s weapons. Or rather, Ms. Relo discovered it. Quite unexpectedly.” 

The vid showed an overhead security feed of the stinger in the lab. As Kaidan watched, he saw Bau in the vid walking past the landing struts. Without warning the entire screen flashed white and a static-laced bang sounded out as two pulsing energy blasts were expelled from the stinger’s front. The Bau on the screen gave a start and leapt several paces away, weapon drawn.

“So that’s what that was,” said Tali. “I thought someone had knocked over one of our atlas mechs again.”

“The damage was minimal, fortunately,” Bau continued. “Your crew had the good sense toposition the stinger so that its weapons were aimed down the docking tunnel when they brought it over. It took some trial and error, but we eventually figured out the controls.”

“What kind of weapons are they?”

“Short to mid-range energy blasts. Limited accuracy, but fast and very powerful. And, as usual, an exact match with the weapon traces left by the mothership.”

“What about its flight?” inquired Tali.

“That’s where it starts to get interesting,” said Bau. “We can now say beyond a doubt that the Drej do not use eezo for fuel. Or at least, the stingers don’t.”

Kaidan had suspected as much, but hearing Bau confirm it still left an impact. “What then?” he asked.

“That’s just it. Try as we might, we could not find a central power source. On the other hand, in addition to the underbelly, there appear to be several points across the hull consistently emitting power spikes. And as we know already, the material composition is that of solidified plasmic energy.”

“ _Keelah_ ,” Tali exclaimed. “You’re saying the ship itself is the power source?”

“Precisely.”

Kaidan shook his head in disbelief. “This just keeps getting stranger the further we go.”

“There’s more,” Bau said seriously. “Alenko, I think I may have figured out how the Drej were able to slip past the Citadel defense fleets.”

“What?” Kaidan looked at him sharply.

Bau pulled up a fresh display on the data pad. “See these readings? They’re for a substance we found coating the outer hull in trace amounts. Most of it had warn away, but the bits remaining acted as a form of camouflage.”

Kaidan scanned the report incredulously. “‘A semi-gelatinous translucent compound that acts as a light reflector?’ You serious?”

“It explains a lot,” Bau said, “If the entire ship were coated in it, most of our conventional scanners would miss it. Add to that the already bizarre nature of its physical composition and you have a vessel primed for stealth and ambush.”

“What about the Drej themselves?” Tali suggested. “Could they use it for infiltration on the ground too?” 

“Probably,” said Kaidan. “So far both the Drej’s ships and pilots seem to be made of the same stuff. I bet that’s why the initial scans showed no life forms - it’s because they couldn’t separate the pilots from the ships around them.” He handed the data pad back to Bau. “Anything else?”

“Nothing of note.” Bau looked warily at Tali. “Did Alenko fill you in about the _Titan_?”

Tali nodded. “It’s…incredible. Thank you again for telling me, I realize it wasn’t an easy decision on your part.”

“Speaking of which, what about Soris and Yuna?” asked Kaidan.

“They didn’t ask about it after you left,” said Bau. “Given all they know is the name, I believe we can trust to their silence.”

Tali laughed again. “Even if they did talk, I doubt anyone would take them seriously. Most of my crew sees them as a tad…eccentric.” She paused for a moment, then asked the question that was on all of their minds. “The _Titan_ \- why are the Drej after it?”

Kaidan shifted in his seat to see out the windows again. The rich yellow surface of Asteria was still rolling steadily by below. Forget being after the _Titan_. How did the Drej even know about it when practically no one else did? There were still so many missing details.

 _Thinking like that won’t help_ , he told himself. _Focus on what you do know._ He racked his brains. They had the stinger. Its abilities were apparent now, but so was the fact that the Drej seemed to know very little on an individual basis. On the other hand, the ‘Queen’ mentioned in the memory banks was intriguing. If the species really was governed by such a figure then the truth behind how the Drej knew about the _Titan_ and why they sought it was almost surely known to her. Perhaps, just perhaps, the answers they sought rested wherever the Queen was….

 _The mothership_.

An idea struck Kaidan. A reckless, brazen, utterly outrageous idea. Under normal circumstances, he would have abandoned the thought as quickly as it had come. But ‘normal’ was about as far removed from him now as Earth was. 

“Bau,” Kaidan said, “that stinger - do you think we can fly it?”

Bau blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Can we fly it?” Kaidan repeated.

Bau fixed him with a penetrating stare. “Are you asking what I think you are?”

“Yeah,” said Kaidan. “I’m asking exactly that.”

Tali, who had been glancing in puzzlement between the pair of them, laughed suddenly in understanding. “I’m surprised to hear you make such a proposal, Kaidan. I’d normally expect this kind of idea to come from Shepard or Garrus.”

Kaidan smiled grimly. “Maybe they’ve rubbed off on me.”

“Took them long enough.”

“The question still stands though,” said Kaidan, returning his attention to Bau.

Bau twiddled his long fingers in consideration. “Yes,” he said finally. “The vessel is still space worthy. It could be done. However,” his face clouded, “I doubt the Council would approve such an action.”

Kaidan glanced around the mess hall. Tali had ordered it cleared when they came in, but all the same he was wary. “As to that,” he said slowly, “I think we could stand to hold off on letting the Council know until after our mission is finished. Technically,” he added, “the Council’s ordered us to investigate the Drej, which is just what this would be.”

For an instant, Bau stared at him in astonishment. Then a wily smile spread across his features. “Well Alenko, not only are you a rogue, but you’re on your way to becoming a saboteur.” He chuckled and held out a hand.

It was Kaidan’s turn to look surprised. “You’re on board? Just like that?”

Bau’s amphibious eyes glinted. “I worked in salarian Special Tasks before and after I became a spectre. Any day without at least a dozen cases of government-level espionage before lunchtime was considered atypical.”

Kaidan could not help but smile as he shook Bau’s hand. “Then let’s do this.”

Tali gave a sigh. “You really shouldn’t have agreed to this in front of me, you know.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” said Tali, her voice growing mischievous, “I’m coming with you, and now I’ve got the perfect leverage to hang above you if you try to say no.”

Kaidan grinned at her. “Forget the Council - I would never refuse you and expect to survive the reprisal from your shotgun.”

“Oh, he’s learning.”

“We certainly could use the help, but what of your absence?” Bau inquired.

“There’s no need for concern there,” said Tali. “My second in command’s been dying for weeks now to have a bit more to do. Agro-research, while essential, actually gets boring pretty quickly.” She stood up from her chair. “So, when do we leave?”

***

Engines booming, the _Valkyrie_ burst out of warp into the flickering expanse of the Farinata system. Within seconds it was off again on a curving trajectory, poised for the system’s outer reaches.

On board Bau eyed the scanners with increasing frequency, conscious of even the slightest blip or flutter around them. The _Valkyrie’s_ stealth systems had all been enabled, but whether or not these would prove effective against the Drej remained a mystery.

The comm crackled and Kaidan’s voice sounded from the main hold below.

“How are we looking?”

Bau checked the display. “Less than thirty minutes if those coordinates are right. No sign of any stingers yet. Have you gotten a feel for that cloaking device?”

Kaidan’s reply was resigned. “I’m making progress.”

In fact, Kaidan had spent the last several hours scrutinizing the remarkable piece of tech. The cloaking device was small, flat and gray with few controls and even fewer moving parts. According to Bau, it was designed to interface with almost any form of attire and, once activated, provided near complete invisibility. Despite his familiarity with technology as a spectre, Kaidan had never encountered a model like this before. It was as easy and effective to use as it was intricately crafted. Out of natural wariness, he had tried without success to decipher exactly how the device worked, even after mastering the controls.

“It’s a curious little tool, isn’t it?” said Bau as though he’d read Kaidan’s mind.

“Curious is the word,” Kaidan agreed. “How’s it the only one of its kind? Don’t tell me you didn’t try and replicate it after you got it.”

“Of course I did,” Bau answered. “Handed it over to some friends of mine in STG the first chance I got, but even _they_ couldn’t figure out how to copy it. Not without entirely dismantling this one anyway. So they just gave it back. Figured I would need it more as a spectre. I suspect Ms. Goto may have played a role in its complexity. Otherwise I doubt she would have ever left it in a position to be retrieved if something happened to her.”

“Considering how you said you came by it, I’m surprised she hadn’t straight up bequeathed it to you.”

“Knowing her, she very well might have if there’d been more time,” Bau admitted. An indicator light flashed on the controls. “We’re nearing drop off. You’d better go check on Tali.”

Kaidan gave the cloaking device a final grimace and snapped it into place on his armor. Exiting the hold, he passed through a back corridor and down some stairs into the cargo bay. Tali was standing beneath the stinger, omni-tool in hand.

“That time already?” she said without turning around.

“Just about. How’s it looking?” 

“Good, all things considered. The damage from the Citadel doesn’t seem to have caused any signifiant problems. If we were flying into an asteroid field I’d be less optimistic, but we should be fine in open space.”

Kaidan eyed the shimmering patch on the hull marking the entrance. “I still haven’t been inside yet.”

“It’s not as exciting as Bau and Yuna made out. Mostly just lots of blue wall.”

“I would have thought you’d be excited handling so much unknown technology.”

“You’d think, right? It always used to make me so ecstatic. Personally I blame the other admirals.”

“They putting a lot on your shoulders these days?”

“Not really, it’s just easier that way.” She shut off her omni-tool and crossed her arms, thinking. “It’s been a while since you and I went on a mission together, hasn’t it?”

“I guess it has,” Kaidan reflected. “Doesn’t feel like it, though.”

“I know what you mean. I bet if Garrus were here he’d probably say this is ‘just like old times.’”

“He does say that.”

A gentle rumble sounded from the _Valkyrie’s_ engines. Kaidan felt the ship’s momentum slowing. Right on cue, Bau’s voice sounded over the bay speakers.

“We’re about ten minutes out from the drop zone. Get ready.”

“Showtime,” said Tali with a return to her usual feistiness.

Kaidan pulled on his helmet. “After you then.”

As the _Valkyrie_ continued to decelerate, Bau’s eyes were glued to the scanners in search of hostiles. At less than two minutes to go, he saw what they were looking for.

“Alenko,” he called over the comm, “can you hear me in there?”

“Loud and clear,” came Kaidan’s reply. “Not sure how long that’ll last once we’re out, though.”

“Listen,” Bau said, “the mothership just came into range on our scanners.”

There was a pause then Kaidan said, “Copy that.”

“On my mark now, Admiral,” Bau continued. “In twenty seconds, nineteen, eighteen…”

Wedged into the right half of the cockpit, Kaidan felt his gut clench with anticipation. He wondered vaguely what the rest of his old squad-mates from the Normandy would have thought about this.

_Probably all be stuffed in here with me._

“…thirteen, twelve, eleven…”

“Kaidan!” Tali said suddenly. “I forgot to ask - have you ever flown in a ship without inertial dampeners before?”

Kaidan started, “Not that I can recall. Why?”

“Ah, mind turning your head, then? I’d offer you one of my suit filters, but I don’t think they work with human armor.”

“What are you saying?”

“…four, three, two, one, mark.”

The stinger plunged out of the cargo bay. Kaidan felt his head collide painfully with the ceiling.

“Sorry!” Tali said. “It’s fighting me.”

For several increasingly tense seconds, the stinger tilted dangerously to the side. Then with a burst of energy, it shot ahead as light and swift as a bullet.

“That’s more like it!” Tali said gleefully. She glanced sideways at Kaidan. “Last meal still where it’s supposed to be?”

Kaidan gave her the thumbs up. He wasn’t sure whether he felt exhilarated or about to pass out. His omni-tool chimed again.

“Looking good,” came Bau’s voice. “My instruments say you’re right on target.”

“Just don’t fall too far behind us.”

“Have no fear. I’ll be right on your tail until the mothership’s in sight. See you when you get out.”

The comm channel shut off.

Kaidan exhaled and tried not to move unnecessarily. He was amazed that after so many years of service it was still within the realm of possibility for him to feel airsick.

“Time?” he grunted.

“At this velocity, about fifteen minutes,” Tali replied. She started at something on the stinger’s display. “I think that’s it.”

Kaidan looked ahead warily. The stinger’s display was not a normal viewport, but rather a complex reconstruction of the outside mapped out by various light and particle patterns. Kaidan still wasn’t entirely sure how to read it and was amazed that Tali could.

“Here?” he asked, pointing to a section of the screen.

“That’s it,” said Tali. “ _Keelah_ , I’ve never seen a ship this big. It has to be at least seven- no, seven and a half kilometers maybe?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Even the Reapers weren’t that large.”

Kaidan nodded silently. In spite of the stinger’s unorthodox display, it was an ominous sight. He had not seen the mothership since the day Earth was destroyed. Yet fortune or misfortune, whichever it was, had now chanced to bring him right to it. What the three of them were attempting was about as dangerous as spectre missions could get and probably not one that would meet with much approval from the Council even if it succeeded. But that didn’t matter to Kaidan now. He wasn’t certain himself how the shift had occurred, but there was no denying it. Garrus had been right. The truth about the _Titan_ , Earth, the Drej, and Shepard was all linked somehow. And in his heart Kaidan at last decided that uncovering it was more important to him than any rank or regulation could ever be.

Tali continued to slow the stinger as they drew towards the colossal structure. “No signs of activity yet,” she said, sounding tentative.

Kaidan watched the shifting particle patterns in the display. “Even with their tech, the Drej haven’t shown much independence in their thinking so far. With any luck, we’ll just be another scout who got back a little late.”

“And if they do hail us?”

Kaidan shrugged. “We’ve got the language. We’ll improvise.”

“Improvisation was never your strong suit, Kaidan.”

“Yeah well, first time for everything. Even spectres.”

“I can’t wait to tell Garrus you said that.”

They were very close now. Several new signals skittered across the screen: the stinger’s unsuspecting fellows. None appeared take notice, however, nor was any request for communications made.

 _So far so good,_ Kaidan thought as Tali began cautiously swerving in among the towering curves and slopes of the mothership’s hull.

Their trajectory soon brought into view a series of massive yawning hangars ahead, curving up like half-domed hills out of the mothership’s coils. Tali made for the nearest of these after checking first that there were no other stingers taking off or departing from it. The faint buzz of the ship’s motion died away as they descended. In its place loomed the hollow silence of the gargantuan vessel they were infiltrating.

Kaidan felt himself holding his breath and, though there was no need, Tali spoke her next words in a whisper. “I’ve found a landing spot, everything looks clear. Get ready.”

Kaidan reached down and powered on the cloaking device. There was a flicker of static as the device synchronized with his armor. Then arms and legs vanished, and he was nothing more than a pair of eyes hovering inside the stinger’s cockpit.

“Bau said that used to belong to Kasumi, didn’t he?” Tali stifled a laugh. “She would disappear like that at random all the time when we were with Shepard. I swear that woman knew her tech better than some quarians.”

Lower and lower they descended until, with the softest of thuds, the stinger touched onto the floor. They were in.

“Watch yourself,” Tali whispered as she powered down the ship. “If anything happens-” She ran a finger lovingly over the Katana shotgun at her waist.

“I’m counting on it,” Kaidan said. The next moment he was through the hull and standing, invisible, in the mothership’s hangar.

It was a forbidding sight. Every inch of every surface shimmered a ghostly electric blue. Stingers lined the hangar space from wall to wall in close proximity. Looking around, Kaidan was amazed Tali had been able to find sufficient space to land. He couldn’t see any pilots, but that didn’t mean they weren’t close. There could easily be some inside the other vessels. As quietly as he could manage, Kaidan made his way through the forest of ships towards what he hoped was a crew exit at the far end. There were no doors, but the walls there fell away into a long slanted corridor leading up and beyond, into the mothership’s depths.

Kaidan followed it, hearing nothing but the gentle tap of his feet and muffled breaths inside his helmet. The corridor curved several times, but only split off twice. Kaidan took the left hand passage both times. Past experience had taught him much about finding the way through an unknown structure and, as unusual as this one was, he still had a hunch where to go.

Deeper and deeper the passages led. Some opened into larger ones of similar complexity, others ended in chambers of varying sizes. It wasn’t long before he caught sight of the mothership’s inhabitants. A group of a dozen or so Drej came up from the left as he approached a third split. Luckily, he had been planning to take the right this time. He passed another cluster standing guard outside a chamber and moments later had to flatten himself against the wall as a patrol went by. He was worried the sound of his footsteps or some fluctuation in the cloaking field might give him away, but the master thief’s device held true.

At last the tunnel ahead of him began to widen until Kaidan found himself stepping out into a chamber larger than any before. Directly in front of him several yards ahead was a vast, flowing wall of brilliant blue and white energy. Its translucent surface seemed to ripple of its own accord, sending scores of light patterns cascading across the chamber floor and ceiling.

Kaidan approached the wall slowly, unsure of what do next. It seemed stable enough, but then again so had the stinger when Bau first touched it. He moved until the surface was mere inches away, then, glancing around to make sure he was alone, he pressed a hand against it. He braced himself, ready for the shock, but it didn’t come. To his amazement, he saw his hand had passed right through the wall as if it were a bubble. He was about to proceed when the sound offootfalls behind brought fresh alarm to his senses.

A solitary Drej drone approached from the far entrance. Although he was invisible, Kaidan sidled away as quickly as he dared until he had put several feet between them. Now close to a corner of the chamber near the wall, he crouched down and screwed up his eyes, watching the Drej’s every movement.

The Drej seemed to be none the wiser of his presence, for it remained constant in its pacing until it stood almost exactly where Kaidan had been a moment before. It made no further movement, but stood stiffly at attention, as if waiting.

Something moved behind the wall.

Kaidan felt a chill run down his spine. It was coming towards them.

Slowly, with an eerie grace, the terrifying mass beyond the wall took shape. It was a Drej, but nothing like the others.

Where the drones tended to stand with a slight hunch, this Drej stood straight-backed, taller and prouder than any of its fellows. Its body was slender and twisted to the point of being serpentine, yet each of its movements flowed with an undeniable elegance that was as menacing as it was captivating. The figure’s head too was eloquently curved, with a pair of crests folded like insect wings over the the blackness of its face. Unlike other Drej, however, this face was not entirely featureless. Out from the darkness, glowing icy white, were two sharp horizontal slits.

A paralyzing awe and dread gripped hold of Kaidan. He felt sick and his hands shook slightly. He knew it was the Queen.

The drone bowed its head and said something which Kaidan could not make out. The Queen made a short gesture in response, and the drone at once turned and started back the way it had come.

No sooner had it disappeared into the corridor beyond than the great shape of the Queen passed as smoothly as a snake through water out from the wall, and with long flowing strides followed after the drone.

Kaidan did not even dare to blink as she passed. Every fiber of his being was wrought tight by apprehension. The Queen was barely two yards away. Five yards away. Seven. Ten…She was gone.

Kaidan still did not move for a time. The weight of what he had just witnessed continued to bore into his mind. But time was of the essence and the inner chamber was empty. It was now or never.

He stood and approached the wall. This time he did not stop but walked right into it. He felt the curtain of energy rippling around his body. It caused a slight friction to his movement, but nothing else. The next instant, he was through and gazing at his new surroundings in wonder.

He was in a gigantic high-roofed chamber set all about with shimmering blue walls. They were brighter than the ones in the passages outside, and the energy particles within appeared far more active, as evidenced by the way their surfaces sparkled and flashed. Aside from himself there were only two other things of note in the chamber. A cluster of podiums similar to the stinger’s controls stood in front of a particularly lively section of wall at the far end. They looked like a Drej control center, but for what, Kaidan couldn’t guess. The remaining object, however, was far more intriguing. At the very center of the chamber, encased within an intricately crafted frame of some unknown material far darker than the rest of the ship, was a glowing ball of brilliant white light.

Kaidan stared at it. The ball was enormous. It had to be an energy core of some sort, but was on a scale above anything Kaidan had ever seen. He opened his omni-tool and scanned it carefully. To his surprise the readings returned a result almost at once. Kaidan frowned.

_It’s not an unknown substance?_

He pulled up the full report. There, in the small digital margins of the omni-tool’s display, was the answer: a White Dwarf star.

He was standing in front of a captive White Dwarf star.

_Holy shit._

It explained everything. The mysterious traces left by the stinger’s weapons, the source behind the mothership’s destructive capacity, even how the Drej could travel without Element Zero.

‘ _Orb genesis.’_

Kaidan recalled the phrase from the Soris’ and Yuna’s analysis. They had all agreed it was something to do with the manufacture, but what if the term was a literal one? Was it possible the “Orb” so frequently referenced in the memory banks and the White Dwarf star before him now were one and the same?

Kaidan’s mind was racing. The Drej had proven themselves to be extraordinarily practical in their mindset and behavior so far. Given this and how their language seemed to be structured, it did make more sense for the term to be taken literally than not. This thought in turn led to another. If “orb” was a literal reference, then couldn’t “genesis” be as well? But “genesis” meant “creation.” If that really were the case, then the combination of the two together, “orb genesis” meant….

And in that moment, Kaidan suddenly understood. He saw it all. What the Drej were, how they came to be, how their ships came to be, even the answer as to why all Drej seemed to share so perfect a likeness in their composition. At long last, the veil had been lifted.

Excitement coursing through him, Kaidan opened the comm link on his omni-tool and said in a hoarse whisper, “Tali? Do you copy?”

A few seconds of static then, “I read you,” came the faint reply. “What’s your status?”

“I’ve got what we need. Let’s get of here.”

“Copy that, I’ll alert Bau. Be careful.”

“Will do,” Kaidan was about to close the link when a sudden crackling sound gave him pause. Sparks were fizzing out from the star as the apparatus containing it shook. Before he could so much as move, a burst of energy swept out, flooding the chamber and everything in it. The blast knocked Kaidan off his feet. He felt himself twitching and saw snatches of electricity sputtering out from his equipment. His amor’s shields were down and his omni-tool had overloaded.

_Oh no._

He tried to reboot it, then realized with a shock that he was _visible_. The cloaking device had shorted too!

“No,” he muttered desperately. “Not now.” But it was no use. The device was unresponsive.

_Dammit!_

He tried his omni-tool again. The comm was working, but its signal was poor. Most of the power was gone.

“Tali?” he said again.

“What just happened?” Tali’s voice sounded distorted. “Are you alright?”

Kaidan got to his feet and started back towards the wall. “I’m fine. Heading your way now, but get that shotgun of yours ready - I’ll probably have company.”

“Oh, it’s like that, is it? Not to worry.” It was faint, but Kaidan thought she sounded on the move. “I’ll steal some of their attention for you.”

The little power left in his omni-tool sputtered feebly as Kaidan passed back through the energy field. Once on the other side, he threw away all caution. Drawing his weapon in one hand and readying a biotic charge with the other, he took off running back into the maze of passages. The first couple of Drej he passed barely reacted. Perhaps they were caught unawares, or it simply hadn’t occurred to them that an intruder would be heading away from the inner chamber rather than towards it. A few of their blank heads turned in surprise, but none fired. Kaidan charged on, retracing his steps as best he could remember. A deep boom echoed from somewhere ahead and from the corner of his eye Kaidan spotted several other Drej racing down an adjacent path that curved off to the right. Tali was apparently not wasting any time.

Not wanting to come up behind the squad ahead, Kaidan took the left-hand path and then turned right again as soon as possible. Dashing along the new corridor now, he saw with a start two drones flanking the way ahead, arms raised. Before either could react, Kaidan unleashed the biotic charge in his arm. The shockwave propelled both drones off their feet and forced their arms towards the ceiling. The blasts from their weapons screeched loudly, but in vain. As he sprinted between them, Kaidan slowed just enough in his pacing to deliver a headshot at point blank range to each. Their flailing movements ceased at once, but Kaidan did not even look back. Sweat broke on his forehead as his heavy combat boots pummeled the floor. He ran faster and faster, his lungs paying dearly for the closeness of his helmet’s oxygen supply, but Kaidan did not care. He knew every second that he was not back on the ship was another second the Drej could and would use to kill him.

After what seemed like a fraction of the time it took to sneak in, he burst through a wide opening and back into the hangar. A frantic sight greeted him.

Tali stood pressed behind the blasted hulk of what looked one of the other stingers, next to where they’d landed. She had her shogun out and was taking frequent pop shots at what looked like at least a dozen Drej clustered off to the far right. They were firing repeatedly upon her cover, but Tali didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. Every opening that came, no matter how slight, saw her lean out from the remains to unleash a vicious burst of fire. Three Drej had already gone down and, as he raced forward, Kaidan saw a fourth one join them, the entirety of its torso blasted apart, scattering blue sparks everywhere.

By great good fortune, Kaidan had somehow returned to the hangar through a side entrance a fair ways off from the main one. As a result, while his path back to the stinger was longer this way, it was also clear of enemies.

Drawing close to the fight now, Kaidan announced his presence to the other Drej by sending his largest burst of biotics yet right at the group’s center.

Two Drej caught the full front of the blast and sailed backwards into a stinger. Another went careening off three of its fellows, sending the lot of them crashing to the floor, while a fourth, knocked off balance, ended up blowing off the arm of the drone in front of it.

Seizing her chance Tali at once darted out from her cover and fired five shots in rapid succession, expending her entire thermal clip. Temporarily subdued by the double assault, the Drej’s fire slackened.

“How was the walk back?” Tali called.

“Scenic,” Kaidan said sarcastically. “Bau on his way?”

“Ready at our next signal.”

“Great, let’s get out of here.” Holstering his pistol, Kaidan raised both his arms and held them outstretched. His biotic implants shuddered dangerously as energy poured out from his hands and took shape, forming a barrier between them and their foes. Kaidan jerked his head at the stinger behind them. “Get that thing started, I’ll be right behind you!”

“Understood, here!” Tali said. She punched a command into her omni-tool. The device flashed and expelled a glowing yellow orb about the size of a bowling ball. “Give us some covering fire, Chatika!”

The omni-drone whizzed obediently over Kaidan’s head and began pelting the remaining Drej with short range energy blasts.

Tali disappeared up through the stinger’s hull as Kaidan planted his feet and gritted his teeth. The Drej had resumed firing, but seemed to be trying to ignore the omni-drone. Again and again their blasts struck with terrible force against the biotic shield. Kaidan grunted from the effort. The ferocity of their barrage was incredible. He could actually feel his legs sliding back from the momentum.

“Hurry, Tali!” he shouted, unsure whether she could hear him. Suddenly, he noticed something strange about the Drej’s fire. They were not striking his shield at random points. They were concentrating on the areas closest to where his hands were projecting it!

The shock at the realization nearly cost Kaidan his balance. How had the Drej discovered and adjusted their strategy so quickly? They hadn’t even spoken aloud! But there was no time to wonder the point as, with a fresh wave of foreboding, Kaidan saw a crowd of new drones burst through the main doors. His energy was getting low. The barrier wouldn’t last long against that many. The omni-drone had already reached its limit and, in a last effort, rushed the Drej it was closest to and detonated in a miniature fireball.

Kaidan was considering dropping the shield and making a run for it when a pair of piercing raw energy blasts roared out above him. The captured stinger was hovering inches above the floor, weapon tips sizzling. The blasts it had fired streaked down the hangar and exploded right at the head of the oncoming horde.

It was all Kaidan needed. Abandoning the biotic wall, he tore across the floor, up to the belly of the stinger and passed through. No sooner was he inside than Tali whirled the craft around and sped out of the hangar, towards open space. Towers and spires from the mothership’s exterior whisked past as they fled. But all too soon, the sound of more energy blasts like theirs began welling up from the rear. The enemy was in hot pursuit.

Tali was talking frantically to herself at the controls. “Auto-trajectory engaged, damage assessment non-critical, guidance systems still operational. Don’t panic, we’re doing fine.”

“Ready to signal?” Kaidan grunted, not even bothering to try and stand with the stinger’s pellmell motions.

A loud crack sounded in their ears, and Kaidan felt the stinger jerk horribly off-balance.

“Do it!” Tali yelled. She pressed a final command into the controls and raced over to Kaidan who, with the last dregs of power from his omni-tool, activated his spectre homing beacon.

Tali wrapped her arms around him and together they passed through the hull. The stinger was revealed to be missing two of its struts but nonetheless continued on course. It had soon shrunk into the distance, but not before several others zipped past. Soon they too vanished. Only the outline of Tali’s enviro-suit and the sounds of his labored breathing remained.

As they floated aimlessly through the void, Kaidan caught a glimpse of the now distant mothership, deep blue and situated ominously against the darkness around it. It felt strange to see it that way. So much peril, intrigue, and mystery, surrounded by an endless sea of nothingness.

For the first time since encountering them, Kaidan found himself wondering about the Drej as simply another species. How did they first evolve? Were they the only ones of their kind? What did they believe in, if anything? These questions and others passed dreamily through Kaidan’s consciousness as he drifted with Tali. But he knew that unlike the previous questions, these could never be answered. And just as easily as they entered his thoughts, so too did they pass out and drift away into emptiness.


	20. Purpose

“Well done,” Javik said calmly. In the dim ward, the aura from his piercing eyes seemed magnified.

Athena said nothing. Cautiously, she returned the echo shard to her pocket. She was still panting slightly. The shard, once mysterious and inviting, seemed fundamentally different to her now that she knew what it carried within. As triumphant as the revelation about the _Titan_ was, she knew she would not soon forget the images of horror leading up to it. She looked warily at Javik.

“I saw what happened to your people.”

“I know.”

“There was-” Athena began, but stopped short. She wasn’t sure how to explain this particular memory. “I saw a planet on fire. Not just a part of it. The entire world was burning.” Her voice trembled. “I could hear their screams.”

“What of it?”

Athena eyed him hesitantly. She wasn’t sure if he was being polite or guarded. “I heard someone in the memory say your name.”

Javik gave the smallest of frowns. His rear eyes turned downwards. “It was my home world,” he said slowly.

A deep silence fell. Athena could not think of anything to say, and it was a while before Javik spoke again.

“The memory on there is not mine, but I was present. In my own mind it is the earliest thing I can recall.”

“I’m…sorry.” She meant it.

“Do not be. The time to grieve for that day has long since come and gone.”

“Was your world destroyed too then? Like Earth?”

Javik considered. “That depends on your point of view. The planet itself remained after the battle, but the life which had dwelt there was stripped away forever by the Reapers. Even today, I do not believe that world is capable of sustaining life on its own. It may as well have been destroyed for all the purpose it serves.”

Athena sank back into her pillows. Was it the same? If it had been so with Earth, would she have suffered less? She tried to imagine it. No. Somehow the idea of seeing Earth as only a charred lifeless shell, forever devoid of beauty felt even worse. At that moment, however, the sounds of approaching footsteps put an end to further reflection.

“She is already with a visitor,” someone said outside the door. “Please wait, there are other patients in that ward too.”

“And I have no intention of disturbing them,” a familiar steady voice answered. “But I have to see Athena. If you’re really going to try and stop me, I hope you have some beds that are still vacant.”

A moment later the door flew open and into the ward strode Garrus. His armor was grimy in several places. Dark stains were splashed across his upper chest piece and his neck. His expression was hazy but the instant he saw Athena his face brightened.

Athena started up from her pillows. Joy and guilt alike whirled inside her. Her mouth opened, but no words formed. Garrus spoke instead.

“You’re okay. Athena,” his tone was crushed with remorse, “I am so sorry.”

Their sudden reunion and the weight of emotion behind Garrus’s words were too much for Athena. Before she knew what was happening, hot tears were rolling down her cheeks, and all of her thoughts from before, fears, hopes and revelations alike, came spilling out. 

“That vorcha almost- I nearly-!” she choked. Her hands gripped the bedsheet in anguish. She thought her heart might burst.

Something warm and gentle closed around her. She felt a comfort. Safety. It steadied her. Through muffled sobs, she reached out and hugged her protector back, almost as tightly as when he’d first come to see her on the Citadel. 

“It’s alright,” she heard Garrus say. “I’m here now, and I won’t fail you like that again.”

Athena hiccuped. “I made us come here,” she half mumbled. “I didn’t know.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

As he continued to hug her, Garrus turned his head to address Javik. “I’m not sure whether to be surprised or thankful you’re here. Either way, I’m betting it’s no coincidence.”

Javik, who had remained silent since Garrus came in, looked mildly at the turian with two of his eyes. “I understand you were seeking me.”

“That’s right. You picked a hell of place to retire to.”

“Your assumption is misguided. I did not come here to rest, but to kill.”

“I always assumed your idea of retirement _was_ killing.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Javik’s mouth. “In that case, let us simply say you are not inaccurate.”

“Did Athena tell you why we were looking for you?”

Before Javik could reply, Athena suddenly let go of Garrus. “I can’t believe I forgot. “Garrus, I found the _Titan_!”

For the first time she could remember, Garrus appeared at a loss for words. His dark eyes blinked in amazement. When he finally found his voice, he said, “Are you sure?”

Athena grinned and wiped her tear-stained face on her sleeve. “Javik showed me how to use the shard. The asteroid field in the Athens system - that’s where my father hid it.”

Garrus’s look of amazement redoubled. “But that’s in the Artemis Tau Cluster, right next to-” and then he suddenly laughed. “I’m such an idiot. It was all right there! Even Shepard’s message said they were running low on fuel.” He shook his head.

“Garrus, don’t be like that,” Athena said reproachfully. “Even if we’d figured it out, we still wouldn’t have known where in the system it was.”

“Well, I suppose not.” Garrus heaved a sigh and looked at her with profound admiration. “You’ve done an incredible thing.”

She beamed at him.

“I am still curious though.” Garrus returned his attention to Javik. “How exactly did you two meet?”

“Unexpectedly,” Javik replied.

“And just in time,” Athena added.

“That sounds about right. Care to elaborate?”

Athena told him what had happened after she raced into the alley. Her voice trembled once or twice, and when she reached the sequence of events just before her fall into the mines she nearly stopped. But in the warmth of Garrus’s presence and the quiet, albeit mysterious, detachment of Javik’s, she managed to keep going. It was similar to when she’d first told Garrus about her mother, like something painful was being removed from inside her. Only this time it was easier, as if the something had not taken root. When she got to the Drej and explained what she had done, Garrus and Javik both stared in interest.

“To attempt such a thing under the circumstances was extremely foolish,” Javik said matter-of-factly.

“Forget that, you were actually able to connect with a Drej’s mind?” Garrus asked. “What did you learn?” 

Athena shrugged. “Not a lot to be honest. I got the sense this Drej didn’t know very much. Almost like it wasn’t supposed to.”

“Ignorance for efficiency’s sake,” Javik mused. “Such a species was also present in my cycle. They did not last long.”

Athena felt a shudder pass though her. “There is one Drej that’s not ignorant,” she said. “It lives on the mothership. I think it could be their leader. The others call it the Queen.”

“As in a hive mentality?” Garrus seemed to be thinking hard. “That would certainly explain some things. Did the Drej tell you anymore about her?”

Athena shut her eyes. “Worse. She broke in on our connection. I guess she must have a similar ability because I could feel her take back control of the Drej.”

Garrus exhaled. He looked like he wanted to hug her again. “Was that when Javik found you?”

Athena glanced at Javik. “Mind finishing?”

Javik promptly concluded the account with the sudden attack from the adjutant and his own appearance on the scene. He had barely mentioned the former, however, when Garrus cut him off.

“Hold on, what do mean an adjutant attacked you? Those things were part of the Reapers, there shouldn’t be any left.”

Javik sniffed impatiently. “I dislike having to repeat myself. The adjutants are not _true_ Reapers. Although created by them they are not like the husks of the other races that were corrupted. Much of their composition remains organic, albeit heavily altered from what it was originally, but altered genetically, not synthetically. It is this distinction which allowed them to be spared the purging blast of the Crucible.”

“I’ll be dammed,” said Garrus after a moment’s consideration. “So that’s why you’re here. As long as there’s even a whiff of the Reapers somewhere, you’ll make short work of it.”

“I will.”

Silence fell for a time. Athena stared at her sheets, not really seeing them. Garrus continued to watch her with a mixture of admiration and sympathy, while Javik observed one of the other patients, an elderly salarian talking softly in his sleep.

“Garrus,” Athena said presently, “I just realized, how did you know I was here?”

Garrus smiled slightly and held something out to her. It was the Phalanx pistol. Athena took it curiously.

“The clinic’s security office had it.” Garrus pointed to something above the handle. It looked like a small metallic cylinder, attached securely within the tiny groove where the weapon’s barrel and grip connected.

Comprehension dawned on Athena’s face. “A tracker?”

Garrus gave a small tilt of the head. “Just in case.”

There was a noise outside the doorway. Someone spoke sharply, but the words were indistinct. A moment later, Maelon came walking briskly into the room. The salarian’s manner was changed from when Athena had met him earlier. His steps were tense and his face bore an expression of grave urgency.

“Forgive the intrusion. A situation is brewing outside in the district. I’m afraid we have to put the wards into lockdown.”

“What situation?” Garrus asked.  
Maelon’s mouth twitched in agitation. “Drej.”

Garrus didn’t waste an instant. He stood and drew his assault rifle. “Can you walk?” he asked Athena.

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Excuse me,” Maelon said in remonstration. “But that is hardly advisable. There are at least fifteen outside already, and you,” he addressed Athena, “still need rest. That leg is not fully healed yet.”

Garrus ignored him and reached out a hand to Athena. She took it and pulled herself up from the bed. Her head swam at first and her leg gave a wobble, but she stood nonetheless.

Dr. Heplorn muttered something under his breath that sounded like “renegades,” and approached Athena with his omni-tool. Quickly, he scanned her from head to toe, assessing out loud. “Vitals are essentially in the clear. Keep your weight off the leg, don’t run anymore than you have to and _rest again as soon as possible_.” This last request he extended with particular severity.

“I’ll try,” Athena said, hoping she sounded grateful. “Thank you. Really. I’m sorry we have to rush.”

Maelon waved off the apology and handed her a small bottle of blue liquid from inside his lab coat. “Just watch yourselves and take this if the pain comes back.” He headed for a control panel by the doorway. “I’m initiating lockdown. If you’re going to leave, do it now.”

“Will you help us?” Garrus turned to Javik, who was as perfectly composed as ever. “We need to get to our ship.”

Javik’s four eyes considered the turian. “Where is it?”

“Public docking bay in this district. It’s not far.”

“Very well. I will accompany you.”

As the three of them exited, Maelon called after them. “Wait! Don’t use the front. Take a left and then a right. There’s a side exit out the back reception room. Be careful.” There came a low humming sound as the already dim lights of the ward began to fade. As Maelon came out of the room, a heavy blast door thudded into place behind him. He tipped them a final nod and headed off.

Garrus led the three of them down the hall and past several security mechs heading for the entrance with wide clanking steps. A short way further brought them by another ward that still had its door open. Peering in as she passed, Athena caught a glimpse of a smaller room with soft-looking chairs and a few tables. Several patients of varying species were clustered around one of these, clearly in distress at the alarm. At the center of the group was Dr. Helms with an arm around each of the patients nearest her and an expression of the deepest kindness. She spoke something and although unable to make out the words, Athena heard the reassurance in her tone. As they pressed on, Athena noticed more and more how calm everything seemed to be despite the danger.

She mentioned this to Garrus, who nodded without turning around. “It comes with the territory. They’d never stay in business otherwise. Drej or no Drej, I guarantee you this is not the first time sometime like this has happened, or the last.”

They reached the back room where a dull orange placard indicated the side exit. Garrus pressed the control panel and the door slid open with a squeak. One after the other, they passed through.

A familiar rotten stench filled Athena’s nose as stale air swept her face. Far above, she could see the skyline’s red glow. They were back on the streets.

“Alright,” said Garrus, glancing around. “Looks clear, but we all know that could change at any moment.” He checked the sight on his rifle. “I’ll go first. Athena, you come right after and Javik can watch our tail. Whatever happens we’ve got to keep together.” His tone grew earnest as he met Athena’s eyes. “Keep your weapon ready, but don’t fire unless we get surrounded, okay? Just do your best to stay between Javik and me.”

Athena set her face, determined. “Alright.”

Garrus gave her one of his sideways glances. “Ready to get the hell off Omega?”

“Only ever since we arrived.”

Javik eyed the both of them. “Do you intend to start moving or is the plan simply to converse about it?”

Garrus cocked his weapon. “Let’s go.” 

The streets remained empty as they advanced, but that didn’t stop Garrus from checking around every corner or peering into any alleyway that crossed their path. A skycar rumbled faintly from somewhere. Athena had no clue where they were, but Garrus seemed to know where he was leading them. Behind her, she sensed rather than heard the soft, controlled steps of Javik as he moved.

They followed the street for about three blocks before Garrus turned them right and then left. Glancing over her shoulder, Athena caught a glimpse of the clinic’s front entrance in the distance but couldn’t tell if there was anyone outside it. Garrus soon turned right once more and almost immediately the path ahead narrowed. As they passed by the wreck of an old fueling station, Garrus halted.

Athena tensed. Why were they stopping?

Garrus motioned for them to take cover in the station. They did so behind a large cylindrical fuel tanker. The tanker had once been used for storing eezo, but was now as bereft of the substance as Aria T’Loak was of tender motherly advice.

Javik’s eyes scanned the street every which way. As the three of them pressed together, he said quietly, “Do you sense it as well?”

Garrus nodded.

“What?” Athena whispered.

Garrus pointed towards the end of the street where the path split off to both sides, ending in front. “Around the corner,” he muttered.

“Drej?”

“I don’t know.”

“It is them,” Javik said. “Three to be precise.”

“How can you tell?” Athena asked.

“It would be easy to deal with them,” Javik said, ignoring the question, “they may linger if we do not.”

Garrus thought for a moment. “We can’t afford to sit tight. Not in this place. Three shouldn’t be a problem.” He got out from the wreck. The other two followed.

They moved steadily towards the split, Garrus holding his assault rifle at the ready. Noticing this, Athena suddenly realized that Javik did not have his weapon out. The ancient rifle was still slung across his back. She wanted to ask him what his plan was, but knew even whispers might carry in such an empty area.

Garrus was upon the intersection when around the path to the left, their glowing bodies clashing fiercely with the surroundings, came three Drej. Their inky black faces turned as one in alert. Without a sound, each one raised an arm.

Athena made to duck, but something bright, something _huge_ , whooshed past her. She saw Javik whip his arm around in a vicious snapping motion, the entire limb encased in a glowing coat of vibrant, turquoise energy. It was different from other biotics. It seemed older, more a part of the self than something channeled. And far, far stronger.

All three Drej smashed full force into the wall behind them. They collapsed to the ground but barely had time to stir before Garrus was upon them. Yellow and orange flashes from his weapon’s muzzle lit up the walls of the intersection like strobe lights. The Drej bodies splintered apart, sending blue flecks everywhere. But even amidst the destruction and sharp pops of Garrus’s fire, an eerie voice rang out.

_“Purpose located!”_

The call echoed around the street.

A chill crept over Athena. “We need to go. Now!” She could not explain the urgency in her voice.

Javik shifted where he stood, his eyes once again raking every inch of visible space. “I think that would be wise.”

Garrus took Athena by the hand. “Come on.”

They ran, Garrus in front, Athena alongside him now. Her leg twinged occasionally, but she ignored it. Her heart was pounding, not from fatigue, but apprehension. What exactly had that Drej located?

Javik too was no longer behind, but racing at Garrus’s other side with equally long strides. His front eyes were glued to the road ahead while his side ones continued their scanning.

A screech rang out overhead. A blue bolt zipped less than a yard above Garrus’s head and struck the side of a building to their right. A second bolt followed the first and struck the panel of a street lamp, sending a shower of sparks raining down. A third bolt, then a fourth. Athena had no idea how many there were or where they were firing from.

The three of them ran flat-out down the filth-encrusted walkway. The firing above them slackened, but within moments it began anew at ground level. Athena couldn’t help herself. She twisted her neck for an instant to see behind.

Drej were swarming up through the streets. A dozen at least were already behind them, with more still appearing out of the gaps between buildings. Athena's eyes went wide. Her breath was coming in gasps now, but far from slackening her pace she raced ahead with greater fervor than ever. They had to get out of here. They _had_ to.

Garrus was sending out bursts of fire to hamper their pursuers, but having to run forward while doing so kept the impact to a minimum, even with his aim.

“Keep going!” he yelled to Athena. “I won’t be far behind, I promise!” He let go of her hand and whirled around. Next to him Javik did the same. Drawing forth the ancient silver rifle at last, he aimed it straight at the head of the nearest Drej.

Garrus fired first, sending a hail of rounds into a cluster of five Drej closing in from the left. Two fell from the blast, but the other three raced on, unperturbed. One of them returned fire and only just missed hitting Garrus in the hip. Garrus zigzagged around a shoulder-high junk pile before turning back again and catching another in the shoulder. The Drej gave a screech as its weapon arm was shredded above the elbow, but somehow kept its pace. Thinking fast, Garrus adjusted his grip and took aim at a dent near bottom of the junk pile he’d just passed. It worked. The bullets struck home and sent the entire rotten pile of debris cascading into the path of his pursuers. The Drej stumbled, and Garrus mowed them down with another burst.

To the right, Javik’s weapon ignited and a piercing white and blue energy beam flowed forth. The beam hit the nearest Drej square in the face, but instead of being torn apart, the Drej began to steam and fizzle where the beam impacted. A split-second later, the whole of its head collapsed. It had _melted_. Javik, wasting no time, panned the beam over and it sliced through the next Drej like a hot knife.

Javik was continuing to run backwards as he fired, but already his pursuers were becoming wary. As a third Drej sank into a steaming pile of what had previously been its own legs, two more caught the beam in their face again. Last went a sixth when, in a desperate attempt to fire, it raised its arm only to have it shorn off below the shoulder. All the while, a gentle hum was coming from Javik’s rifle as it fired, as if such devastating disintegration was the most normal thing in the world.

As Garrus and Javik worked to hinder their chasers, Athena sped forward, eyes peeled for any obstacles. A mass of wrecked skycars littered the road ahead. As Athena drew near, a glint of blue flashed across one of the hoods. It wasn’t much, but she knew instinctively what was coming. An idea struck her. In the few seconds she had, Athena clenched her fist, drawing for the first time in many months upon her own biotic power.

With a rush it all came flooding back. The thrill. The feeling of control over matter itself. The skills that, young as she was, already seemed second nature. Then, for an instant, Athena saw something else she had all but forgotten: her mother smiling. Her mother, full of life and beaming with joy over her daughter’s growth.

The well of power in Athena’s hand grew stronger. Her fingers twitched. Bringing up her arm, she tore past the skycar and with a motion like a shot-putter’s sent the whole charge of energy barreling out in front of her, straight into the torso of the unsuspecting Drej.

Its ambush derailed, the Drej soared helplessly through the air until it landed with a crash at the base of another street lamp. Slowing her pace for just a moment as she passed, Athena raised the phalanx pistol and shot it in the head.

Garrus and Javik were catching up to her now, Garrus still firing occasional bursts over his shoulder. “We’re getting close!” he shouted. “Next left goes into the bay’s access tunnels! We might lose them!”

Athena was too short on breath to yell back. She nodded her head forcefully, hoping against hope they would be alright.

The counter attack had bought them a little time, but only a little. Athena could sense the remaining Drej still charging after them. The hair-raising shrieks of their weapons made her teeth clench.

It happened in a flash. A bolt from one of the Drej hit the back of another skycar lining the street ahead. This one, however, was apparently not as lifeless as the others and began smoking where the blast struck. Then came a second blast which struck not the car, but a pile of containers nearby. These burst apart, spilling what remained of their contents out inches away from the where the skycar sat. With horror, Athena realized they were thermal clips! And then a third bolt struck right at the center of where the thermal clips were lying.

The entire lot ignited from the blast. A spire of orange flame engulfed the skycar. The vehicle’s smoking intensified, before it too burst into flames. Caught by the force of the unexpected inferno, Athena missed her footing as she ran. Her leg gave a nasty throb and she fell. She rolled several feet before coming to a halt. Coughing and winded from the fall, she tried push herself to her feet, but another burst of flames from behind overcame her momentum and she collapsed down again.

“Garrus!” she called, half-choking on the smoke now billowing out from the fire. He was there in moments. To her left she saw Javik sending another stream from his rifle as Garrus reached down and pulled her to her feet. The Drej were nearly upon them. As Athena wrestled to get her bearings, one Drej who’d managed to sidestep Javik’s beam drew a bead and fired. The energy bolt screamed forward, missed Athena, but struck Garrus in the arm.

Garrus gave a grunt of pain. He clutched at the spot where the bolt had hit. The armor had been ripped clean off and something dark was flowing out.

“Garrus!” Athena yelled again.

Garrus shook his head and gestured vigorously with his uninjured arm. “Move!”

For a single frantic second Athena had a parting glimpse of it all: Javik blasting a last pair of Drej apart at the hip, Garrus holding onto to his arm as if it might fall off, and a handful of Drejthat were still in pursuit coming up from the rear. As she turned, Athena thought she saw one of them bend down towards the spot where she’d rolled. But then she was facing ahead again and running so hard she thought of nothing else.

Down the path, further down, past a gaggle of salarians outside a bar. Were the Drej still after them? Into the access tunnels, past elcor and human merchant stalls. It didn’t seem like they were being chased anymore. Deeper and deeper into the tunnels, one left turn, two left turns. Athena chanced a look back. No one was behind them! One more left turn, a right, and then-

Lungs burning, legs throbbing, Athena saw the familiar hull. The _Phoenix_ was exactly where they’d left it. Beside her, Garrus came to a halt. He winced as he continued to press down on the wound with his free hand.

“Damn, this stings. That’s some weaponry they’re packing.”

“It is powerful, but crude,” said Javik, as he appeared behind them. Apart from the dust on his armor and smoking rifle tip, he might have been commenting on a drink he’d ordered.

“Speak for yourself.” Garrus reached into a pouch at his waist and produced a packet of medi-gel. “Give me a moment,” he said to Athena. “You can get on board if you want.”

Athena, however, looked at Javik. “Will you come with us?”

Javik watched her for a time with an unreadable expression. Finally, he shook his head. “I still have things to do.”

“You sure?” asked Garrus. “We could really use the help. And there might be others where we’re going who need it too.”

“I am aware, but no.” Javik slung his rifle and looked solemnly between the pair of them. His eyes, so typically enigmatic, softened a little. “A word of advice, Athena. Your home, your purpose is what you decide. There is no other.”

Athena stared at him, taken aback. “Thank you,” was all she could think to say.

Javik bowed his head slightly and turned to leave. At the bay’s entrance, he paused. “It was good to see you again, Garrus. You have not changed.” Then, he was gone.

Garrus gave a laugh. “ _I_ haven’t changed?” He sighed and turned to Athena. “Ready?”

She nodded. “How’s your arm?”

“I’ll manage.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Garrus hesitated. “Well, maybe a little bit. Don’t you worry though,” he added as they climbed aboard. “I know my limits and I’ve had a lot worse than this.”

“You mean from the last time you came here?” Athena asked somewhat tentatively.

Garrus traced a finger over the scars on his face, then gingerly rubbed his arm. “That’s just how Omega is. Nobody who leaves here ever does so without something to show for it.”

Athena looked down at the bandage around her leg. A fresh stain had appeared beneath the wrappings. “Yeah, I guess not.”

As the _Phoenix_ ascended, dust and grime fell away from its hull just as before when departing the Citadel. Despite its comparatively short stay on Omega, the poor ship had been unable to escape being covered by the endless filth of the station, which had crept over it with ease. As they pulled out from the asteroid, Garrus looped and spun the _Phoenix_ around to shake off the unwelcome tarnish. Slowly but steadily the grit fell away, until at last the hull shimmered faintly in the distant starlight. 

Safe in her seat next to the pilot’s chair, Athena closed her eyes as they drew near the mass relay. Neither fear or worry, nor hopes or desires, were present this time.

She felt only relief.


	21. Testament

Garrus set a course for the Athens system and, once they were safely in warp, checked the terminal. There wasn’t much of note. A few follow-up alerts from the worlds that had been attacked and a reminder to comply with the safety measures in Council space.

Athena was not interested. As soon as their flight path was stable, she made straight for the back cabin. Next to the putrid hole that was Omega, the interior of the _Phoenix_ felt like a paradise. Even the musty odor and faded wall seemed only the picture of sanitation now. The lavatory shower was small and barely able to manage any temperature above lukewarm, but it could have been a bucket of ice water for all Athena cared. Gratefully, she went in and did not come out for nearly an hour.

She had been wearing the Parnitha spacesuit ever since Garrus found it, but now, looking at the grime and bloodstains caked across the fabric, Athena felt no desire to don it again. She put on some old clothes from the Citadel and checked her leg wound. The bandage, frayed by her dash to the ship, had come off in the shower. After so extensive a wash, however, the skin looked healthier and was less tender to the touch. She applied another packet of medi-gel, then carefully wrapped the spot in a fresh bandage from the ship’s medical kit. Remembering the medicine Maelon had given her, she retrieved the bottle from the suit’s folds and drained it in one gulp.

Garrus was lost in thought when she finally returned to the cockpit.

“How are we looking?” Athena asked.

“Hey,” he replied, stretching in his seat. “Good so far. You finally done in there?”

“I can still smell it.”

Garrus smiled grimly. “It usually takes a day or two.”

“No offense, but I think I want to burn that suit.”

“None taken.” Garrus stretched again and checked one of the monitors. “We’ll be passing by Knossus’ sun in a bit. You could vent it out the airlock if you want.” 

“Thanks.”

As her thoughts turned towards the approaching cluster, Athena suddenly realized she had forgotten to retrieve the echo shard. “I’ll be back,” she said, heading for the cabin.

“Don’t take too long,” Garrus called after her. “Remember, I’m still wearing my burnable suit.”

Athena found the filth-laden outfit in a corner of the cabin where she’d tossed it. She reached into the front pocket for the shard.

It wasn’t there.

She frowned and checked the other pockets. Nothing. She shook the suit. The fabric fluttered limply in her hands. What was going on? She couldn’t have taken it out and forgotten already. Athena swept her eyes across the floor, but the tiny cabin left very little in the way of space to lose something. Then suddenly an image from Omega burst into her head.

The explosion from the thermal clips that had knocked her off her feet. The dazed sense of awareness engulfing her as she’d rolled and bumped across the ground. Garrus helping her up, only to get hit in the arm. And the Drej that had bent down at the spot where she’d fallen….

The horror of the realization struck her so hard she nearly fell again.

“Garrus?”

Athena turned for the door, only half aware that she had to started run. Seconds later, she bolted into the cockpit.

“Garrus!”

***

Once again, the _Phoenix_ burst out from warp to the glow of the Artemis Tau Cluster’s lead system, Knossus. This time, however, it did not linger but made straight for the far end of the system where it jumped again. Not through a mass relay, but over to another smaller system that was its neighbor.

Upon entering the Athens system, the first thing to greet Athena and Garrus was the deep, murky green surface of the carbon giant Pharos. It was right at the edge of the system, but Garrus had wanted to keep their approach toward the asteroid field as gradual as possible. Athena understood the caution, but was impatient nonetheless.

“Are you sure we’ve got enough of a head start?” she asked for the fourth time.

“We’re fine,” Garrus said firmly. “Think about it. Even if those Drej have the shard, first they’ve got to get off Omega - which as you know isn’t as easy as it sounds - fly the shard back to the mothership, analyze it, then fly all the way to this system. That won’t happen in an afternoon. And that’s assuming they can even decipher the shard. How many Drej do you think speak prothean?”

Athena forced a laugh. “I know, it’s just-” She peered down at the distant surface of Pharos passing by as she searched for the words. “I keep thinking of the Queen. She’s not like the others, Garrus.”

Garrus considered as he began to bank right, away from the planet.

“If it’s alright with you, I want to send a message to Alenko. He might think twice about coming himself now and even if he doesn’t, he’ll want to know.”

“Sure.”

They soon left the outer reaches of the system. The distant glow of Athens’ sun began to get larger while other stars in the distance winked out. Garrus briefly brought their speed to near FTL again as the way ahead became more open. Trails of light and colors for which Athena had no name streamed past the windows. She felt anticipation welling up inside her. They were nearing the end at last. After a time, Garrus slowed them back to cruising velocity. The distant stars refocused around them, but directly in front there was only blackness. Their final approach toward the great ring of asteroids at the system’s center had begun.

“Better strap in,” Garrus cautioned as the first hunks of rock began to materialize ahead. “This could get a little rough.” 

It soon became apparent that it was much more than ‘a little rough.’ Within seconds upon entering the field, every ounce of space was suddenly teeming with asteroids. Small misshapen wedges spun and bounced off one another. Gigantic hulks floated by ominously above and beneath. Garrus jerked the controls so frequently it looked as if his hands were being electrocuted.

Athena gripped her seat. More than once she felt her stomach leap with alarm as an asteroid passed inches from the windshield.

“Steady,” Garrus said, more to the ship than anything.

A gap between two particularly imposing asteroids ahead was closing fast. The front of the _Phoenix_ rotated on its central axis to align with the wings, then plunged into the shrinking space. As the deep crunching of rock upon rock rang out, Garrus punched the main booster. The ship shot forward at once, but not fast enough to prevent what happened next. With a sickening crack, the hull’s upper wing tore clean off as the two sides crushed together.

Athena’s breath caught in her throat. Garrus grunted in frustration. His hands danced about furiously as he tried to steady the ship.

The space around them widened a little, but there was no time to relax. To the right another asteroid smashed into the peak of one much larger, the resulting crash sending a shower of fractured stones straight at them. Hoping to buy time, Garrus slowed almost to a full stop. The cluster dispersed quickly, but not before several chunks clanged alarmingly against the _Phoenix’s_ remaining wing. Garrus dropped altitude again, but was greeted this time by the largest asteroid yet floating monstrously amidst its fellows. Garrus fired the thrusters once more and brought them down to cruising speed right above the surface.

“If those coordinates from the shard are right, we should be getting close,” Garrus said. “Any of this look familiar?”

“Hmmm.” Athena scanned through the windshield. “Wait, turn around. Turn around!”

They looped back the way they had come, then further down to pass across the great rock’s terminator. Now in shadow, Athena saw the asteroid’s surface suddenly dip into a series of valleys and rolling hills. Even from a distance they looked vast and imposing. Something else was changing too. The composition of the asteroid was growing smoother and more metallic. But was this really an asteroid?

“I don’t believe it,” Garrus said. “You seeing this?”

She was.

Nestled within the largest of the canyons, it lay.

A sheen flashed off the great spherical hull. The stunning golden brown alloy of its composition seemed to sparkle even in the almost total darkness. Fragments from the surrounding asteroid drifted silently past the massive rocket engines. Atop it all, the great interlocking frame of the command bridge sat proud and silent.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Athena.

The _Phoenix_ drew down towards the northeastern edge of the great hull’s equator. The ship’s size was unbelievable. Even Garrus kept whistling in periodical astonishment. 

At last, the dim outline of a docking bay materialized.

“That’s strange,” Garrus muttered.

“What?” said Athena.

“I’m not getting any readings from onboard.” Garrus twiddled the controls with growing concern. “There doesn’t seem to be any power.”

Athena looked into the darkened mass of the bay. She said nothing, but fresh apprehension crept up her spine.

With a squeaking thud of metal on metal, the _Phoenix_ settled in to dock with the _Titan_. Athena waited by the airlock with bated breath while Garrus powered down the ship. He was wearing his weapons again when he returned.

“You’ll want this,” he said, tossing something to her.

Athena caught it and saw it was a breath mask for zero oxygen environments. She donned it carefully. It felt scratchy and was slightly too big for her, but she ignored the discomfort. Her heart was beginning to pound again.

Garrus put on his own breather helmet paired with his armor and checked himself. “If the power’s really out that means life support might be too. Also,” he produced the Phalanx pistol and held it out to Athena.

She took it. “Just in case?”

“You’re catching on.” Garrus reached for the airlock’s control panel. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The airlock slid open with a hiss. Beyond loomed the faintest indication of an access tunnel, connecting the docking bay with the rest of the ship. Slowly, the pair of them stepped through the doorway into the darkness beyond.

They walked in silence for some time. The stillness of the tunnel was absolute. Athena could hear nothing besides the gush of air in her mask as she exhaled. She strained her eyes trying to see further ahead.

A second door appeared. Garrus pressed the faded panel on the side, but nothing happened.

“Damn,” he muttered. He opened his omni-tool and scanned the lifeless controls. “No power,” he confirmed.

“What does it mean?” Athena asked, trying to keep her voice level.

“I’m not sure. Let me see if I can bypass this.” Garrus pressed his omni-tool against the panel. A blue light flashed from the faded surface and several sparks burst out. The door slid open at once and the panel went blank again.

Garrus beckoned for Athena to follow and stepped inside.

“Hello!” Garrus called out. “Shepard? Anybody there?”

There was no response. Athena bit her lip.

Their eyes had begun to adjust to the gloom. Athena saw they had entered onto a raised walkway that curved off in either direction. The walls followed the walkway, but ended above in a low ceiling not much more than a yard above Garrus’s head. Lining the far edges of the walkway were a series of guardrails. Athena approached these and discovered that the whole walkway was actually a ring overlooking a gigantic circular chasm. She felt small peering out upon the empty void that stretched without visible end both above and beneath. She remembered the mining shaft on Omega and withdrew with a shiver.

Garrus drew his assault rifle and clicked something around the sights. A beam of white light glowed into existence. Shadows flitted across the walls like timid phantoms.

“This way,” Garrus pointed with the light. “I think there’s a stairwell over there.”

“It’s so huge,” Athena said as they began to circle the chasm. “Why all the empty space?”

“Who knows?”

From the light, Athena noticed their ring was only one of many encircling the great rift. They were stacked on top of each other like floors in a building, but with the center missing.

Further down the walkway, where Garrus had pointed, was indeed a narrow staircase running in either direction. There were probably elevators somewhere, but without power this was their only way forward.

“Up?” Athena asked.

“I think so.” said Garrus. “We want to get to the command bridge, which I’m betting is at the very top. We’re somewhere around the middle now, so we’ve got a bit of climbing to do.”

“How do you know that’s where we want to be?” Athena said as they started to climb.

“I don’t.”

Athena snorted. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

Garrus stopped on the step above and looked back at her. “Do you?”

They climbed. One level, then another. The _Titan_ was silent as ever. As they climbed, the wonder of the ship’s appearance mixed with the growing dread in Athena’s heart at its mysterious vacancy. Her father’s message had said he was here. What was going on?

“This is it,” said Garrus from a few steps above her.

Breathing heavily, Athena passed up the last set and was surprised to find herself standing in a wide open chamber with high ceilings and large windows. There were clusters of controls and display terminals spaced out evenly across the floor. The screens were all dark, but through the broad windows Athena could just make out the shapes of the asteroids floating past. The sight of it all seemed strangely familiar.

“The echo shard,” she said quietly.

Garrus turned to her.

“He was standing here. Right here.” Her eyes watered. “Where is he?”

Garrus said nothing. He seemed to be thinking. “The logs,” he said. He strode over to the one of the control banks. “If I can restore even a little power here, maybe there’s something in the records.” He busied himself at the console.

To their surprise, the screen blinked to life at once. Lights of several colors blossomed up from the control panels. A low hum emanated out from the depths of the machinery.

Garrus began typing commands into the terminal. The screen was large enough that Athena could still see it clearly from where she stood. The result of a diagnostics report scrolled vertically up the display.

“This doesn’t look good,” Garrus said. “The main power’s been depleted, auxiliary power’s damaged, reserve is at critical, and,” his brow contorted, “life support’s inoperative. Guess our masks are staying on.”

“But,” Athena said trying to keep up, “if there’s still some power left that means someone had to be here to shut all this down, right?”

“Yes, it does,” said Garrus slowly. He closed the report and the display blinked rapidly through several more interfaces. “This might be the log,” he said a moment later. “Looks like several entries going all the way back to the attack.” He glanced at Athena. “They’re video logs.”

Athena pressed her lips together. After all their searching, all their efforts and struggles, here they were at the place so desperately sought. Why then was she uneasy? But even as her heart clenched inside, all she said aloud was, “Play them.”

Garrus moved a finger over the keyboard. He set the console to start with the earliest log, then moved back to where Athena was watching. A new video window appeared in the console’s display, and then Commander Shepard was facing them.

Athena felt everything around her slow to a halt. Her eyes could no longer move, but at the same time there was nothing else to see. There was only her father.

He looked just as she remembered. His tall, vigilant stature, the iconic red and white ‘N7’ on his chest plate, the flawless military haircut that even now was showing only the faintest whispers of gray, and above all, the old expression that held so much: firmness, ingenuity, determination, and an unparalleled devotion to any and all who were precious in his life.

The galaxy’s savior. The first human spectre. Her father.

He was looking down into the computer recording the log and behind him could be seen the same room in which they were now standing. He seemed to be exactly where Garrus had been a moment ago. The timecode in the corner of the screen showed that it was one day after the attack. Shepard began to speak.

“This log entry is unofficial, but I’m entering it anyway in case I don’t make it. Earth is gone. I watched it get destroyed. And I fear I may be partly to blame for it.” He shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Nobody outside the Council will understand what I mean. Let me go back to the beginning.” He cleared his throat and glanced around the bridge. His eyes were softer than the rest of his face and carried an astuteness that wasn’t always apparent, except for those who knew him beyond his title. When he spoke again his voice was deep and thoughtful.

“Every once in a while, humankind unlocks a secret so profound that our future changes forever: Fire. Electricity. Splitting the atom. Mass effect. At the dawn of the twenty-third century, we unlocked another. It had the potential to change the very role of life in the universe. We called it ‘the Titan project,’ and it was a testament to the infinite power of the imagination that each of us carries inside. The more I think about it now, the more I wonder whether that was what the Drej truly feared.”

Grief passed across the commander’s face. The weight of what he was saying seemed to press harder upon him with each word.

“The project began almost ten years ago. It was an undertaking unlike anything this galaxy had attempted since the war. Before then, to manipulate matter at the scale and intricacy this project was aiming for would have sounded like theater of the absurd. But the trials and revelations we endured to overcome the Reapers did more than save this galaxy. They changed us. What used to be ‘fantasy’ was now ‘unproven,’ and ‘impossible’ turned to ‘approachable.’ We believed it could be done and so did the Council. Still though, there was a catch. Everything about the Titan and its technologies was kept secret. Most of the research team never got access to the plans in their entirety and the Council never missed a chance to remind us what was at stake if our discretion failed. I thought at first they chose me as overseer because of my history as a spectre, but later I began to think it was because they felt I had the most to lose if the _Titans’s_ secrets were ever leaked. Maybe I did. You don’t become a hero without risking people’s faith in you all the more. But for each of us working on it, this project felt worth the risk.”

“Commander!” A woman’s voice suddenly called from off-screen. “Kenneth’s getting worse! I need a hand!”

The display went dark as the log ended, but the next one began immediately. Shepard stood where he had been before and resumed his account.

“At the time of the attack, the ship was virtually finished. I and project engineers Gabriella Daniels and Kenneth Donnelly, plus a handful of maintenance mechs were the only ones working on-site at the time. We knew the _Titan_ was space-worthy and that each of its terraforming systems was operational. We’d even managed to load some of the supplemental equipment too - DNA code banks, seed storage, and so on. On the other hand, main power wasn’t charged, and crew provisions were at the bare minimum. The simple truth is none of us expected to fly that day, but when the Drej attacked it was all we had. We assumed command of the _Titan_ and executed an emergency take-off.” Shepard’s gaze at the screen wavered. “I’ve never seen death like that before. It’s all I can do to keep going right now.” He took a breath to steady himself. “There was so little time left when we took off, I jumped us to the first system I could think of - Knossus in Artemis Tau. One of its worlds is very special to me. We arrived okay but ran into more problems. The little main power we had was drained by the jump and before we could do anything about it, we were ambushed. On and off the ship.” 

Something very troubling was written in the commander’s expression. 

“I said before I may be partly to blame. The truth is I’d been getting the sense for days that the project was being watched. I had no way to prove it of course, just my instincts and that wasn’t nearly enough for the Council. So instead, I took a chance and passed along word of the project to my wife and a trusted friend.” The troubled look on Shepard’s face persisted as his tone became still heavier.

“If I had known back then what this species was capable of…. But ignorance is no excuse, and in mine, I failed to realize how throughly the Drej had infiltrated us. Some drones must have still been present at the attack, because when we escaped, one of them stowed away. With its help, a group of stingers tracked us right to Knossus. That’s when I finally learned the name of the Drej and what they were after. We destroyed the one onboard, but not before it wounded Donnelly. With only Daniels and myself left, there was little we could do to repel the stingers. In the end, we were forced to jump a second time to Athens and hide among the asteroids. I scoured the rest of the ship for more Drej, but found nothing. It didn’t take long after to piece together what they’d done. What I’d failed to do.” Something moved in Shepard’s eyes. He looked like a man torn by hope. “Athena, that day when the Drej descended from the sky the only thing I could think about was whether you and your mother were safe.” The log ended.

The next showed the bridge as before, but Shepard was no longer facing the screen. He was standing some yards away at a neighboring console, leaning against the side of the tall display screen. The timecode indicated less than twenty-four hours had passed. With the commander was a young woman wearing an Alliance uniform. She had pale skin with short brown hair and was typing hurriedly into the console terminal.

“It is recording now?” she asked not looking up. Her tone was brusque and coated in a thick Irish accent.

“Looks like it,” Shepard replied glancing back at the screen. “So, what’s our status?”

The woman leaned back and tapped her feet. “This is everything,” she waved at the screen. “Mains are gone, aux’ll be out by this evening and there’s barely enough reserve left to run a debugging.”

“What about life support?”

“Unless you know a way to grow those seeds in terra-storage, A-rations are all we’ve got.”

“And how many is that?”

“Barely enough to get the three of us through the week.” The woman crossed her arms and continued to fidget. “Oxygen and water should be good for now, but we’ve used up most of the medical supplies on Kenneth.”

The commander nodded gravely. “How is he?”

The woman averted her eyes. “He’s fading, Commander. I’m not sure if- how much time there is.”

Shepard frowned as he thought. “Escape pods?”

The woman laughed derisively. “Only two functional. Not to mention they’re all single person. Who was the genius with that brainwave?”

“They were supposed to be placeholders for the auto-flight tests,” said Shepard, straightening himself and beginning to pace around the console station. “It was never the plan to have them for an actual mission-critical.”

The woman gave a snort. “Well, it’s not like they’d do us much good in this asteroid field anyway. Did you really have to hide us here?”

“It was either that or be dead in space with the possibility of more Drej,” Shepard replied. “I was aiming for the colony on Proteus, but we just didn’t have the power.”

The woman sighed and sat forward in her chair. “So what now?”

Shepard continued pacing. “We need more to work with. Get down to loading and see how many of those mechs you can get back online. I’ll do a count for spare parts and tech. Anything that’s not bolted down we can use - and even if it is, we shouldn’t discount it.”

“Aye, Commander,” said the woman. She stood.

“And Daniels,” Shepard called after her, “Get some rest after. I’ll check on Donnelly.”

The logs transitioned again to two days later.

Daniels sat alone before the screen. There were shining trails down her cheeks. “You always had a crude retort at the ready. I used to hate them. You really didn’t care, did you? Or maybe you were just too stupid. But you always managed to keep your head on straight enough when we were talking. I don’t know why I’m saying this. In case I don’t make it out too, I guess?” She inhaled and her mouth trembled slightly. “It doesn’t feel like you’re gone. I keep looking over my shoulder whenever I’m in engineering. You’re supposed to be there. But, I don’t see you!” Fresh tears fell from her eyes. Daniels wept wordlessly for a time. “The Commander has a plan,” she managed finally. “Honestly, it sounds desperate as all hell, but that’s business as usual for us right? I think we can pull it off.” She made to get up from the chair, but paused. “You’re such an asshole, leaving me in a fix like this, you know? But…I love you anyway. You moron.” The log ended.

In the next one, Shepard and Daniels were back to browsing the opposite display together.

“That’s all of it,” said Shepard after a moment. “Should be enough for the booster.”

Daniels cocked her head at the screen. “There’s more than I thought. Are you sure we shouldn’t divert it to the comm relays instead?”

“No. I checked, it’s still not enough,” Shepard answered. “These asteroids are a natural muffler for signals, and on top of that Proteus’s orbit is really badly placed at the moment. But even if we could send an SOS, there’s no guarantee it wouldn’t be intercepted. The Drej could be searching this system right now for all we know. An encoded pickup for the spectres is our best bet.”

“Hmm,” Daniels pondered. “I know we’ve got to use the eezo for something, but there’s so many variables with this approach.”

“If you have a better idea, I’m all ears,” said Shepard, folding his arms and leaning against the side of the monitor again.

Daniels shrugged. “At the very least, let me switch over some of the other pod’s attitude thrusters.”

Shepard frowned. “We’re going to need that one too.”

“I know.” Daniels rubbed her temple wearily. “But this makeshift booster we’re adding weighs a lot. And flying in _this_ ,” she waved to the windows, “means we’ve got to have as much maneuverability as possible. I don’t like that we’re trying to send this all the way to Knossus. Athens is out of the way, sure, but it’s got to have at least a few comm buoys.”

“I’m sure it does,” Shepard agreed. “But our odds are still strongest if we can get a message out of the system. Don’t forget, Knossus has a mass relay. There’s a lot more traffic. That’s where any spectres will be passing through.”

“But the colony on Proteus-” Daniels began.

“-is why we have the second pod,” Shepard interrupted. “Listen, Daniels, I’m not pretending this isn’t a long shot, but it’s what we’ve got right now.”

She pushed her chair back restlessly from the console. “I’m sorry, Commander,” she said after a pause. “I’m holding a lot at the moment.”

Shepard moved over and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said. “Me too.”

The next log was more than three days later.

Shepard was leaning in his usual spot by the display while Daniels had pushed her chair back to be near one of the windows. Both looked exhausted, but pleased.

“That’s that,” Daniels said. “Now it’s up to our delivery boy.”

“I’m sure he’ll come through. Mechs can be surprisingly tenacious,” Shepard replied.

“I’d still feel better if it was one of us.”

A smile creased Shepard’s face. “I’m sure it would have been if those escape pods had come with a bit more oxygen. Guess you can blame that on the flight testers too.”

“If I ever see any of them again, I’ll do a lot more than blame them,” Daniels said ominously.

Shepard stretched. “We’ll rest for tonight, but you should probably take the second pod tomorrow. We’ve only got a few rations left, and water and air are starting to get low too.”

Daniels swiveled around in her chair. “About that. Commander, I think I should be the one to stay.”

Shepard shook his head. “You know what my answer’ll be.”

“Oh for god’s sake, Commander!” Daniels said, voice rising. “You have a family!”

Shepard smiled faintly. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. Let’s play for it. Three round Skyllian poker just like the old days. Winner decides.”

Daniels stared at the Commander with her mouth slightly open. “Have I ever mentioned how insane working for you always is?”

“I’m honored.”

As they got up to leave, Daniels’s face fell. “We’ll be one short this time,” she said softly.

Shepard thought for a moment. “We can still play with a third spot open.”

Daniels nodded. “Good. Thanks, Commander.”

The log ended. When it resumed, Shepard was alone again in front of the screen. His face was paler and thinner than before. Each breath he took sounded heavy with fatigue.

“This will be my last log,” he said slowly. His voice was tired. “Daniels executed a successful launch with the last escape pod, but her signal was lost about twenty minutes into flight. I don’t know if it was from the asteroids, or something else. No word from her since, or from the colony on Proteus. It’s been over a week now - I think. I consumed the last of the rations a while ago and tomorrow the water and air will both go as well.” He swayed slightly and paused to steady himself. “No word either from Knossus. I don’t know if the mech was able to deliver our package. Or even if the pod made it at all. What I do know is I haven’t got much time left.”

Something strange was growing in Shepard’s eyes. “I hope you can forgive me for not being able to keep my promise. What I wouldn’t give to see you now,” his voice grew, “Liara, Athena - the two of you are _my_ galaxy.” Behind him through the window, a gap in the asteroids appeared. For a moment, the vast ocean of stars was visible beyond glittering brightly.

A wistful smile crossed Shepard’s face. “I can’t change the past, but maybe I can still give you a future. With this ship, you have the power to make a planet. To make a new home. It isn’t much, but it’s all I have left to give now.” He stepped back. “This galaxy is strongest when we stand together. We proved it against the Reapers, and we can do so again with the Drej. Remember that. I’m counting on you. All of you...Shepard out.”

The screen went dark.

“Athena?”

Athena turned and saw Garrus starring at her. There was no word for the sadness on his face.


	22. Final Reminiscence

_The morning sun shines upon me. Its rays are bright and welcoming. I am already looking forward to being outdoors again when classes finish. A gentle tug on my hand. I return my eyes to earth._

_“You won’t make much of a commando staring off into the sky like that.” My mother smiles. Her tone is light and playful._

_I toss my head. “Who says I still want to be one?”_

_We resume our journey down the sidewalk. A breeze trails past, whispering things I cannot hear._

_“Why didn’t you?” I ask eventually._

_“Why didn’t I what?”_

_“Become a commando?”_

_My mother laughs. “Who says I never did?”_

_I squeeze her hand impatiently. “You know what I mean.”_

_She squeezes back. Her hand is warm like the sun. “I had to follow my heart. It just so happened to lead to archeology.”_

_Something rumbles far above us. I look up, but see nothing._

_My mother stares too. The ghost of a frown crosses her face._

_“What is it?” I ask._

_She is silent._

_“Mother?” I say again._

_My mother shakes her head. “I’m not sure.” She tightens her hand around mine. “Let’s go.”_

_We move more briskly now. There is a growing uneasiness in my stomach. I cannot tell if it is from the sound or my mother’s reaction to it._

_We turn a corner and my school comes into view. The polished doors are already open with students passing through. Everything appears the same as always. I am beginning to relax inside when I hear the sound again. It is closer now. And louder. Something is coming._

_A flash._

_My eyes are blinded by the burst. I feel rather than see the mysterious objects racing through the air above. Then the blast wave hits. My feet leave the ground. My hand is wrenched free from my mother’s. The whiteness before my eyes deepens to orange. Heat on my face. Not the sun’s. It is much, much closer. My body slams into something, but I cannot tell if I have fallen. My head grows heavy and my vision darkens._

_Someone is shouting my name. I try to listen._

_It is my mother, but her voice is distant, as though from across a river. I want to respond, but my mouth refuses to obey._

_“Athena, you need to get up!” My mother sounds closer now. I feel something shaking my shoulder.“Come on!” I hear her shout. “Open your eyes!”_

_I do at last. The world around me is on fire. Flames lick at the walls of my school and surrounding buildings. Smoke pours out from rooftops.The ground is littered with broken pieces of metal and glass. Screams echo in all directions. I see people running. I see others lying motionless amidst the wreckage. And, I see the ships._

_They are darting everywhere in clusters across the skies. Their hulls glitter with a chilling blue light as they release destruction upon us. The piercing screech of their weapons stabs my ears like static._

_I am suddenly wide awake and full of fear. My mother leans over me. She is covered with dust, and has a cut on one cheek._

_“Are you injured?”_

_My body is still heavy, but there is little pain. I shake my head._

_“Can you walk?”_

_I nod._

_“Good,” she pulls me up. I am amazed at her strength. “Keep hold of my hand and whatever happens, don’t stop running. We need to get to the conduit. Do you understand?”_

_I nod again. There are no words for what is happening._

_“Now, hurry!” my mother shouts._

_We race away from the burning buildings. Through streets transformed by panic and chaos. Everywhere I glance I see others like us fleeing the terror above. More ships are in the skies now. Some I recognize. Alliance cruisers and fighter wings, scrambling to hold the invaders at bay. But the enemy are many. I have never seen such numbers. They skitter and dart like wasps, pelting my planet with blue fire._

_A light appears in the distance. A tall, white towering beam that disappears into the clouds. Everyone around us seems to be heading in the same direction. They know as we do it is our only chance for safety._

_My mother runs faster than I’ve ever known her to. I cough and gasp from the smoke around us. Try as I do, I am afraid I cannot keep pace. But her hand is tight around mine pulling me along just the same._

_There are shuttles up ahead. People are piling onto them, desperate to evacuate. We reach the queue and are jostled by panicked civilians. The fear is contagious. I sense it working into my chest, tightening around my throat and lungs. My mother pushes and jostles back. She does not care about the crowd. Her urgency is not that of panic, but purpose._

_“Stay close!” she calls to me over her shoulder._

_Before I know it, we have passed through the crowd and are at the shuttle’s boarding ramp. My mother half carries me up into the cabin. The chaos outside is suddenly quieted. I can still see it through the windows, but the shrieks are gone. I feel my breath release in a single wave and my legs tremble. I realize I am shivering even though my face is soaked with sweat. My mother is saying something to the shuttle pilot. Her tone is the fiercest I have ever heard it. She is only feet away, but I suddenly want her hand in mine. She returns and steers us to a pair of seats. A muffled bang echoes through the hull. The floor of the shuttle shakes, making my seat rattle._

_“It’s okay,” my mother tells me. “We’ll be airborne soon. They’re going to fly low, straight to the conduit.”_

_I look out the window and see the top of a skyscraper lying in the street we have just come from. The crowd is already much smaller. Many have made it onto the shuttles, but some are still running. Horrified, I turn and hug my mother as tightly as I can. She puts her arm around me. Her touch carries comfort, but it cannot halt the screams echoing in my mind. I cover my ears. I want it all to end. To black out. The floor rumbles as we take off._

_“It’ll be alright,” my mother says. Her tone is soft again. In spite of my fear, I find I can believe her. I keep my hands on my ears, but relax the pressure a little._

_My mother is moving around in her seat. I feel her arm curve to hold something up. The sounds of a data pad trickle past my fingers into my ears._

_“Shepard!” my mother calls to the screen. “Are you there?”_

_My father’s voice, distorted by static, calls back through the speaker. “I’m here. Are you okay? Is Athena-”_

_“We’re fine,” my mother cuts him off. “We’re on an evac shuttle to the conduit right now. Where are you?”_

_“Still at the site,” he replies. “The outside’s been hit pretty hard. I haven’t been able to radio a pickup yet.”_

_“Oh goddess, tell me you’re not trapped in there.”_

_There is a pause._

_“We’ll be fine,” my father says, but there is uncertainty in his tone._

_My mother notices it too. “Shepard, listen to me - you have to get out. I don’t care how you do it. Fly that ship yourself if you have to. Just get out now!”_

_Another pause._

_“I will. Can Athena hear me?”_

_“She can.”_

_“Athena - I’m so proud of you. Of everything you’ve done. I always will be.”_

_His words fill my heart. I want to answer. I want to look up and see his face. A distant part of me knows there is no telling when I will again. But fear’s icy grip holds fast and I keep my eyes everted._

_My father continues, “I will see you both again. I promise.”_

_“I know you will,” my mother answers. I feel her body tense in advance of their parting. “I love you, Shepard.”_

_“Now and to eternity?”  
“Even further.”_

_“Then I’ll see you there.”_

_The call ends._

_The shuttle soars through the air. The terrible clamor from outside occasionally punctures into the cabin. I cannot bring myself to look out the window. I cry desperately inside my head for us to reach the conduit soon. For all of this to be over._

_My mother brings her arms around and hugs me closely. She murmurs gently into my ear._

_“Hang on, little wise one. We’re almost there.”_

_A jolt._

_The sound of something metallic bursting apart. The shuttle jerks sharply to the right. My head slams against the window pane. I cry out in surprise and pain. There are shouts from upfront near the cockpit._

_My mother pulls me in even closer. She is looking over my head through the window. I feel her breath catch inside of her._

_“Shut your eyes, Athena,” she says firmly. “Keep a hold as tightly as you can.”_

_I obey immediately. I am too afraid to wonder what is happening. A blue haze rolls across my closed eyelids, and the sound of rushing energy grows around us. I realize my mother has created a biotic field around our seats. I realize why._

_I start to hyperventilate. Panic tears through my body. I want to scream but can’t. I can only wait._

_The crash is swift and violent. My seat is torn free of its frame as the shuttle around is rent by the impact. Screams fill my ears again. I feel the rush of air on my face. There is nothing I can do, but cling harder to my mother. A terrifying pain stabs up from my side. I gasp and feel myself falling. The darkness behind my eyes grows, and soon I am lost inside it._

_Pain, dull and throbbing, awakens me. I am lying on my back looking up at the sky. Trails of smoke rising up from ruined buildings and the wreckage of the shuttle coalesce to blanket the atmosphere, discoloring the sun. I try to roll over to see where I am. The white beam of the conduit falls into my vision. I watch the tail of another shuttle pass into the beam and vanish. Scattered civilians scurry past on foot, disoriented but desperate to get out. We are very close. We. Where is my mother? I turn to my other side, but pain shoots through my torso. A metal spike is sticking out of my side._ _It is as thick as my fingers. Blood coats the edge where it meets my clothes. The pain is so great, I cannot turn further. Helpless, I return my vision to the sky. And that is when I see it._

_Far above the clouds of smoke, a ship is approaching. A new ship. It is larger than anything I have seen or imagined. It glows with the same cold blue light as the smaller ones. But this one is far, far worse. Menace drips from its angular towers and archways. Its lower tip sparks and crackles. For every second it draws closer, the terror is redoubled._

_The desperation from my fear is so great it overpowers the pain. I turn at last and see my mother. She is lying next to me a few feet away, eyes shut._

_“Mother!” I yell. “Mother, wake up!”_

_Her eyes open slowly, but once they find me the rest of her does not delay. She is on her feet in moments, kneeling over me. She is bruised and covered with grit from the crash. There are fresh cuts on her face and hands._

_“Thank the goddess,” she breathes. “Oh,” her eyes alight on the spike in my side. “Can you walk?”_

_I shake my head feebly._

_“It’s alright. Hang on.” With strength untold, she lifts me in her arms. “Wrap your hands behind me.”_

_As I do so, a guttural blast of energy courses out from the heavens. We turn as one and see that the ship has fired. My mother does not say anything. There are no words that can describe what we are witnessing. So she runs. She carries me and runs._

_The nova-like beam strikes the ground, tearing through the surface of my home world. The light of the blast comes first. Like waves of fire, it burns my eyes. Then the shockwaves begin._

_I hear them before I see them, great bellows from beneath as the earth shudders. Many of the people fleeing around us trip and fall. My mother stumbles but does not stop, even as the path ahead trembles and cracks._

_The blast wave appears. It is the first of many, though I do not know it at the time. I see it looming in the distance, poised to swallow up everything its path._

_We are upon the conduit now. The beam is yards away. My mother is panting from her efforts but still does not slow. As we pass under the entryway, another shockwave roars beneath us, much closer than the others. I feel my mother trip, then fall forward. We slam hard into the ground. Then before I can react, her arms throw me outward. I roll several feet. Twisting back, I see the entryway collapse upon her._

_“Mother!”_

_Dust billows out, blocking my gaze. Without realizing it, I begin to crawl back towards the debris. If there is pain from my side, I do not feel it. The conduit is less than six feet behind me, but I no longer care._

_“Mother!” I cry again._

_The dust is settling now. I see her. Her left side is buried under rubble. A spike larger than mine protrudes out from her chest. Purple is flowing down the sides of her mouth. Her right arm moves faintly. It is the only limb that can. But I am not looking at her arm._

_Her eyes find mine. A sadness I have never seen before wells up in them. Tears take shape and trickle out. One after the next they roll down her cheek to the corners of her mouth, mixing with her blood, until both fall silently as one._

_Through bleeding sorrow, she mouths my name. “Little wise one…I’m so sorry. This is as far as I go.”_

_Time stops. The planet’s destruction screeches to a halt. Nothing happens. Nothing moves. It simply exists as I do, helpless._

_My mouth opens, but no sound comes. I want to scream. To yell out. To shatter this frozen existence, but I cannot. Horror has paralyzed me._

_My mother’s arm rises. Her hand closes and a ring of blue energy appears around it. I feel myself lifted into the air._

_For an instant, I see it all: the great ship above, looking out upon its destructive deed. The approaching death of my home, oceans, mountains and cities all falling together in the distance. And closest of all, my mother. Her mouth curves into a faint smile._

_The biotic wave releases. I soar backwards through the air. I watch as the Earth breaks apart. And then I have passed into the conduit. Stars wink out from beyond the tunnel of energy now carrying me away. Far away. And at last, I can scream._


	23. Convergence

Kaidan felt his body thud against the docking bay floor. A grunt of relief escaped his helmet. His body no longer weightless, he let go of Tali, who likewise groaned in exhaustion.

“You good?”

“Ugh, spectacular.” With an effort she pushed herself to her feet and held out a hand. “ _Keelah_ ,” she muttered, helping Kaidan to his feet. “How did we go from investigating to deliberately spacing ourselves?”

Kaidan stretched. “Because our ship was about to be blown apart?”

Tali’s glowing eyes narrowed sarcastically behind her mask. “Oh, of course. Silly me.”

Kaidan pulled off his helmet. “We’ve done crazier.” 

“Probably, but I can’t remember the last time we jumped out of a stolen ship mid-flight.”

“How about that time on Ilos?”

Tali laughed. “Close enough.”

As they ascended the stairs to the upper deck, Bau suddenly appeared at the top.

“Welcome back. I’m glad you’re alright.” His normally flat tone sounded strange. “Alenko, two messages came in for you.”

Kaidan waved a hand. “The Council right? Figured they-”

“No,” Bau cut him off. “They’re from Vakarian.”

Both Kaidan and Tali stared at him.

“What is it?” Kaidan asked slowly.

Bau did not answer. He turned on his heel and gestured down the corridor. “Come to the bridge. Now.”

***

Swiftly as an eagle through a canyon, the _Valkyrie_ glided between the asteroids. Its x-crossed wings looped into a barrel roll more than once to avoid collision as it darted ever closer towards the massive golden-brown ship.

High atop the _Titan’s_ bridge, Garrus stood watching their approach in silence. In keeping with his species, the expression on his face was as impassive as ever. Yet beneath the glowing visor and deep scars, a very different story was written. One that seemed to have come forth out of a nightmare. He had feared this, hoped he was wrong, even clung desperately to his last meeting with Shepard enough to follow him here; all to no avail. The denial shielding him ever since word first broke about Earth had at last been swept away. This was reality.

He did not hail the _Valkyrie_ as it docked. Even when the distant sound of footfalls in the stairway began to echo up, he remained where he was. Gradually the footfalls became louder and the sound of voices joined in. At last the dim shape of a figure materialized up from the staircase.

Recognizing the outline, Garrus slowly held out a hand as Kaidan came towards him.

Kaidan gripped the hand in his own and glanced briefly at his old squad-mate through his helmet. Neither spoke. Garrus thought Kaidan seemed even more tired than at their last meeting on the Citadel.

After a pause Kaidan said, “Thanks for getting us out here.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“You too.”

Kaidan glanced around the bridge. His eyes alighted on the display screen. “That it?”

Garrus nodded. “Did you want to see them?”

Kaidan shook his head.

Behind him, Tali and Bau approached. Bau’s normally alert face was passive and Tali, though it was impossible to see her expression, carried herself more heavily than usual. As she drew near, though, her eyes brightened a fraction.

“Hey Garrus,” she said “It’s been a while.”

Garrus smiled sadly. “Hey there. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course.” She hugged him briefly.

Bau shook hands with Garrus too. “Alenko and I have alerted the Council to our situation,” he said. “Given the Drej are mostly likely on their way now, I believe any public relations concerns about this ship are now irrelevant.”

“Will the Council send help?”

“I certainly hope so.”

Garrus took a deep breath and tried to pull his thoughts together. He knew Shepard wouldn’t want him to remain stagnant like this. Not when there were still things that needed seeing through. “Whatever we do next, we need to decide fast.” 

“How much time have we got to work with?” inquired Kaidan.

Garrus shrugged. “Some hours, maybe a day? I don’t know.”

Bau tilted his head in consideration. “Considering how quickly we got here, it would not take the mothership long.”

“Hold on,” said Garrus. “Where exactly were you?”

As Kaidan, Bau and Tali exchanged glances, Garrus seemed to realize the answer on his own. “Damn,” he breathed. “And here I thought Athena and I were taking risks.”

“Speaking of which,” said Tali glancing around the bridge, “where is she?”

Garrus’s face grew somber.

“She’s down at the far end. There’s an observation deck. I wouldn’t,” he added as Tali started to move. “I think she wants to be alone.”

Tali paused and looked back at Garrus. Her silvery eyes glowed indistinctly beneath the faceplate. “No, Garrus,” she said. “If I know anything, right now she’s wishing for just the opposite.”

***

Against most backdrops, the half circle of windows at the edge of the command bridge would have seemed open and free. In the depths of the Athens’s asteroid belt, however, the effect was reversed.

Tali was used to such a feeling. She’d spent her entire childhood aboard vessels so cramped they may as well have had asteroids cluttered around the inside as well as out. As it was, she felt at ease aboard the _Titan_. Or at least, she supposed, as easy as one could, given the circumstances.

Tali hadn’t spoken much about her days aboard the Normandy. Not to her own people anyway. But the memories of her time with Shepard, and the dangers she too had faced along with Kaidan, Garrus, Liara, and the rest of them had never once wained in her heart. She thought of the look on Garrus’s face and the change in Kaidan’s demeanor ever since Bau had relayed the terrible news aboard the _Valkyrie_. Indeed, her own heart felt several times too heavy at the moment. Was it out of grief for Shepard that she sought Athena now? Tali wondered. Perhaps. But, if she was being truly honest with herself, there was also something more.

Athena was in one of the seats at the far side of the chamber. She sat curled up, hugging her legs to her chest. The side of her head rested against the transparent wall. Though her cheek was pressed to the expanse beyond, her eyes were unfocused and she did not look up as Tali approached. Her face bore no traces of tears. She had none left.

“Hello, Athena,” said Tali.

Athena did not reply. Tali halted next to her and swayed casually before the great windows. The quarian waited, pretending to watch a particularly jagged asteroid floating past. 

“I don’t know if you remember the last time we met - not that I’d blame you, I think you were about five - but I’m Tali. Tali Zorah Vas Uma.”

Athena still did not look up, but muttered something indistinct.

“Sorry?” said Tali.

Athena’s crossed arms twitched slightly. “Normandy.” she said in a low voice. “I thought it was ‘Vas Normandy.’”

Tali blinked at her a moment, but then hid a smile behind her mask. “Not bad. I’d forgotten I was still going by that back then. ”

Athena was silent again.

“I’m here with Kaidan and Bau,” Tali continued. “Garrus told us what’s happened.”

Silence.

Tali gestured to the seat adjacent Athena’s. “May I?”

Athena gave the slightest of nods.

Tali sat down next to her. When she spoke again, her normally spirited tone was quite soft. “I know what this is like for you, Athena.”

Athena turned her head to face her at last. Staring into Tali’s faceplate, her blue eyes looked hollow. “You can’t,” she said, barely moving her mouth. Her tone was flat and as empty as her eyes. “You can’t _,_ ” she repeated.

“I realize it’s not much to give,” said Tali sadly. “But believe me, I do.”

“No!” said Athena, her voice rising suddenly. “You _can’t know_. It’s not possible, for you or anyone!” The words shook in the air around her as her arms twitched again. She stared unblinkingly at Tali, her fierce expression reflected in Tali’s mask. “You can’t know,” she said choking on each word as if it were something bitter, “because I can’t feel _anything_.”

Tali’s silvery eyes looked down for a moment, but then returned to Athena. When Athena did not go on, she said quietly, “Of course you still feel. You feel so much right now that for the first time in your life, you’re frightened by how much you wish you could forget your loved ones. Anything, if only to free you from the pain.”

Something shifted in Athena’s eyes. Something that was not grief. “You-?”

The glow from Tali’s own eyes seemed to dwindle. “I was nine when my mother died. A pathogen aboard the migrant fleet. A lot of my people lost their lives that way. Father was later. He was killed by geth aboard his own flagship. I wasn’t much older than you are now.”

The strange look appeared again in Athena’s eyes. She stared at Tali as if only just noticing her. “I…” she began, but without any idea of what to say. She stopped and instead turned to look back out the window at the asteroid clusters drifting by. “I miss them.” she said, voice breaking.

Tali watched her in silence.

“How did you keep going?” Athena asked after a pause.

“I don’t really know if there’s a helpful answer to that,” Tali said. “Some part of me just decided I had to. Maybe so that their deaths wouldn’t be for nothing.”

Athena closed her eyes. The pain of loss was still there. She couldn’t deny it. But hadn’t it really been there ever since Earth? She’d told Garrus as much on their way to Therum. And still she’d kept on. Through the Citadel, the comm buoys, the hell of Omega, all the way to now. Could Tali be right? Could lamenting the unfairness of it all actually be unfair in itself?

If her parents were here, Athena wondered, what would they tell her?

_That’s easy._

Her mother would smile like always and say she knew her too well to believe she would be sad forever. And her father would tell her not to give up no matter how hopeless the odds because that’s what people did.

“Did you know him well?” she asked.

“Shepard? Oh yes. We all did.” Tali’s tone was light, but Athena couldn’t help noticing the quarian’s fingers twiddling together curiously as she spoke.

“What is it?”

Tali seemed to realize what she was doing immediately. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.”

A noise made both of them look around. The walls had begun to hum. Air suddenly gushed into the space around them. The lights in the observatory revived with a burst of color. The polished hulls, no longer dulled by the blackness of space, blossomed into vivid golden brown.

Realizing what was happening, Athena removed her breath mask and inhaled. In the newly lit chamber, the wave of oxygen felt like the breaking of one’s head above water.

Tali spoke again, “it might not be much, but right now-” The quarian raised a hand to her own faceplate and pulled. There was a click, a soft hiss, and the mask popped free.

Athena stared past the space where it had been in amazement. A smile, warmer and brighter than any she’d ever known, shone from within.

“Right now, you have this.”


	24. Duty

Garrus was standing with his back to them when they returned to the bridge. Bau was seated at one of the consoles, looking over a systems readout in rapt attention. Kaidan, having apparently left the bridge for something, was absent.

“Impressive,” Tali said, glancing around the revitalized command center. 

Garrus turned, but seeing Athena halted his reply. He watched her curiously, his scarred face no longer impeded by his helmet.

She eventually met his gaze.

“Are you okay?” Garrus asked her.

Athena nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Garrus hesitated, but then deciding he believed her, said, “Kaidan’s just having a look around, he should be back soon _._ We’ve diverted as much power as we could from the _Valkyrie_ and _Phoenix_ to try and recharge some of the _Titan’s_ systems.”

“How much did you get?”

“We have partial auxiliary power and fresh oxygen for life support,” Bau replied without looking up from the console. “Enough for several days.”

Tali walked up to peer over his shoulder at the screen. “That’s not too bad. How’s our mobility?”

Bau sighed audibly. “Less than was hoped for. I’m afraid we can’t make it out of this cluster without proper refueling. We might be able to risk a jump back to Knossos, but navigating out from these asteroids alone could cost us a lot.”

“What about a distress call?” Athena asked.

“We sent one to Proteus once the power was back,” Garrus answered. “It’s a pretty small colony, but human, so they’ll probably take notice once they realize it’s an Earth vessel. Bau says he sent a transmission to the Citadel too, but there’s no telling how long the Council might take to respond.”

Athena frowned. “Won’t they care?”

Garrus shrugged. “I’m sure they do. It’s just they have a tendency to be a little, well, traditional sometimes.”

“This won’t do.” Tali folded her arms. “We’re running on desperation. Suppose the Drej show up before the colony or the Council? What then?”

Neither Garrus nor Bau had an answer. Finally Athena spoke into the silence. “Why not fight?”

The others looked at her in surprise.

“What?” said Athena, grimacing under the scrutiny. “Doesn’t this ship have any weapons?”

“It does,” said Bau slowly. “Point defense turrets mostly. Are you suggesting we try holding out here?”

Athena pointed to the windows. “If we stay in the asteroids, won’t we be less exposed? Then we can just use whatever power we’ve got for the defenses.”

“That’s a fair point.” Garrus glanced at Bau, “Might be worth try.”

Bau cocked his head as he always did when analyzing. “It may help the odds a little, but our outcome still depends most on who finds us first. No amount of asteroids will hold off the mothership.”

Athena’s stomach clenched at the mention, but she knew he was right.

“What we really need is more power,” said Tali, who had begun swaying gently in thought where she stood, arms still crossed. “Are you sure there’s no way of getting the mains back up?”

“I tried,” said Bau. “But all I could get to respond to our eezo transfer was the auxiliary. There’s something very strange about the _Titan’s_ core. I’m not convinced it even runs on eezo.”

“That’s because it doesn’t,” said Kaidan striding up from the stairway. His helmet was off, and he looked tired but pleased. He sat down heavily at another console and swiveled the chair about to face them. “I need to tell you all something.”

They watched him in silence. Even Bau looked up from his monitor.

After collecting himself, Kaidan said, “I think the _Titan_ and the mothership are connected.”

Tali’s glowing eyes rolled behind her mask. “Not to be rude, but I think that’s kind of obvious.”

“I don’t mean that they’re after it,” said Kaidan, waving his hand. “Listen, when I was on the mothership I found this in the central chamber.” Tapping his omni-tool he sent an image onto one of the monitors. A dazzling ball of white light, shining out from an unknown apparatus, appeared on the screen. 

“Is that…a star?” Athena asked after a moment.

“Good eye,” said Kaidan. “It’s a captive white dwarf star to be exact. It’s what powers the mothership.”

Bau’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Garrus swore, and Tali muttered darkly behind her suit. Athena said nothing, but stared transfixed at the image with a mixture of awe and revulsion. 

“How in the name of-?” Bau began, but Kaidan cut him off.

“There’s more. The star isn’t just their power source. Remember what we came across in the stinger’s memory banks? ‘Orb Genesis?’ I think this star is the ‘Orb’ that phrase is referring to. Its energy doesn’t just give the Drej their power. It creates them. The stingers too. It’s how they’re born.”

“You lost me,” Garrus said. “Powering the mothership is one thing, but how do you know this is where the Drej themselves come from?”

For reply, Kaidan added a second image to the monitor. “The scans,” he said, indicating the data. “Every one taken: the initial ones from survivors, Bau’s and mine after the attack on the Citadel, Tali’s people, the mothership, and the star itself - all perfect matches.” He caught Bau’s eye as he spoke.

The salarian nodded. “A species of light and energy. All born of the same progenitor for the same purpose. As if they were clones. Well done, Alenko.”

_Purpose._

Something stirred in Athena’s memory.

_The Orb wills, the Queen sees and we are purpose._

“That Drej I questioned on Omega,” she said, “it talked about the star like it was something that controlled them.”

“I thought the Queen controlled them?” said Tali.

Athena shrugged. “Maybe they both do? Or maybe the Orb comes up with commands and the Queen gives them?”

Kaidan spread his hands. “That much is still speculation for me. I can’t even begin to guess how a star could have a will of its own, or be manipulated to create other beings. But if it is true, it explains everything.”

Silence drifted over the bridge for a time.

Eventually, Garrus spoke up. “This is interesting and all, but aren’t we getting a bit off track? How does the _Titan_ fit in?”

Kaidan spun his chair around and typed something into the console. The data scans vanished in place of a ship-wide outline for the _Titan_. Kaidan continued to add commands and the display zoomed in on the ship’s core. “When I was looking around earlier, I found this,” Kaidan said. “Notice anything familiar?”

Garrus squinted at the screen. “This is the _Titan's_ main reactor, right? Strange.”

“My word,” said Bau, his eyes now wide to the point of absurdity.

Athena and Tali saw it too.

“The similarities,” Tali said slowly. “It’s like - how to put it - an early version of the device holding the star?”

“Exactly,” said Kaidan. “Remember how the memory banks referred to the _Titan_ as a proto-vessel? Whether or not the mothership uses it differently, it’s because the technology for both ships is the same.”

Athena suddenly recalled something else the Drej on Omega had told her.

_Your world housed a threat. We sought to eliminate it._

“This was never about Earth,” she said, her voice trembling in realization. “It wasn’t about destroying humanity or anything like that. They attacked out of competition. To stop us from discovering what they’d already mastered.” Her fists clenched. “My father was right.”

“So, what next?” Tali said after another pause.

Athena’s eyes blazed. “I want to stay. I want to fight.”

“So do I,” Garrus admitted. “At the very least we owe it to Shepard. But, I don’t see how we can manage without more support.” He glanced at Tali. “You’re the expert when it comes to engineering. What would it take to get the mains up and running?”

“Depends on what they use,” she replied. “If not eezo, then what?”

Bau ran a hand across his forehead. “I suppose, if it really is as Alenko says, the energy must be solar-based.”

“How do we charge it then?” Garrus asked. “I’m guessing it’s not as simple as rigging a couple of panels to the roof.”

Kaidan shook his head. “No way. We’d have to get the _Titan_ right up next to whichever star we’d use. And judging from these readouts, it’s going to take a tremendous amount of energy.”

Athena, who had been glancing between the images of the mothership’s core and the Titan’s main reactor, suddenly gasped.

“What about the Drej?” she exclaimed.

Kaidan looked confused. “What about them?”

“Don’t you see?” Athena stared at the four of them, her face shining with a strange new determination. “If the Drej and their ships really do all come from that star, that means they’re part of its energy, right? So, if the technology really is the same, why can’t we use its energy and theirs to power the _Titan_?”

Kaidan’s expression changed from subdued to astonished. Garrus smiled. Bau’s eyes looked ready to fly out of his head. “Doing so would be unprecedented,” he said seriously. “However, given these last few months, it would hardly be the first time.”

“Is that spectre-talk for, ‘yes?’” asked Tali.

“Let’s say it is,” Kaidan answered. He typed a new command on the console. The image switched from the main reactor to highlight three points along the outer hull. “It looks like the energy relays all link to these circuit breakers. If Athena’s theory’s correct, the relays should be able to draw from the Drej once they’re close enough just like any power source, but only if the breakers are engaged.”

“Meaning they aren’t at the moment?” Garrus inquired, peering at the readout.

“Probably designed that way to protect from overloads,” said Tali. “We are talking about pulling raw energy from a star after all.” She checked the screen over Kaidan’s shoulder. “Can you turn them on from here?”

“I think so. Bau?”

“One moment.”

The two spectres busied themselves at their consoles. A satisfying chime sounded out after some minutes of typing.

“That’s one,” said Kaidan.

A breaker icon on the monitor switched from gray to blue. Moments later, a second one did the same.

“Nearly there,” said Bau.

Athena felt her heart beginning to beat faster.

A buzzer sounded out from the console speaker. An error window appeared in the display as the third icon changed not to blue, but to red.

“Damn it!” said Kaidan. “It’s a wire malfunction. I don’t know if I can fix it.” 

“I can,” Tali said at once. “I’ll head there now.”

“How long?” Athena asked as Tali made for the stairs.

“Um, a few hours?” she called back vaguely.

Before Athena could speak again, a second buzzer sounded. Not a mechanical alert, but a proximity one.

Tali, her foot poised above the first step, stopped and looked back. Kaidan leaped up from his chair and dashed over to the scanning station, Bau right behind him. Athena watched as they checked the incoming signal. In an instant, Bau’s entire figure went rigid and Kaidan’s face fell.

Athena saw the two of them turn wordlessly and knew what it meant.

Garrus looked at Tali. “Think you could do a few minutes instead?”


	25. Annihilation

The Queen of the Drej scrutinized the closing mass of asteroids. Repulsion seethed inside her as she wordlessly directed the mothership’s approach. To have hidden the proto-vessel in so crude an environment as this bespoke nothing beyond desperate vanity. Once again the bio-forms continued to defy expectation for what was pitiful, but that would soon cease. A _droheh_ approached the Queen from behind, keeping its head bowed in submission as it did.

 _“Status,”_ the Queen commanded before it had even completed its advance.

 _“A distress signal has been detected from the target,”_ the _droheh_ answered. _“Other bio-form vessels may be on their way.”_

The Queen's patience was nearly depleted. _“Dismissed,”_ she hissed viciously into the _droheh’s_ mind. It left at once, and her attention returned to the incoming field, but her annoyance only intensified.

Weeks and weeks of precious time allocated to searching, while the Orb continued to deteriorate. Pitiful or not, there was no denying the Shepard bio-form had proven an elusive quarry. The Queen could not recall another instance of a single bio-form causing the Drej this much frustration. Even after her hunch had proven correct with the asari, her _droheh_ had failed to acquire their target and returned instead with some fragment of old bio-form tech. While ultimately sufficient for locating the vessel, decrypting it had taken a far greater toll upon the Orb than the Queen had expected. This had been followed by one of the Orb’s longest and most unstable episodes yet. The Queen’s already slit-like eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Gathering her energies, she sent a new order ringing out through the minds of every _droheh_ aboard the mothership.

_“Destroy the rock shield which protects the Titan. The human threat ends now.”_

*** 

Cold, raw vigor flooded Athena’s veins as the impact of what was happening struck home. Every sensation inside her was suddenly jolted to maximum awareness. Though they were standing several feet apart, Garrus’s next words seemed to come from right beside her.

“Tali, get that breaker fixed as fast as you can. Kaidan, go with her. Bau-”

“I know - air support. On it.” The salarian departed at top speed. Tali had already disappeared down the stairs before Garrus finished speaking, Kaidan on her heels.

Garrus whirled about and headed towards a bubble-like console station at the far end of the bridge. “Let’s go, we need to get the defenses up.”

Athena shook herself to get her bearings. “Wait! Shouldn’t one of us handle communications?”

Garrus glanced over his shoulder.

“You up for it?”

She nodded. “Go.”

Garrus tipped her a sideways smile and sped off. Athena turned and raced back to the main console where Kaidan had been sitting. Shoving the chair aside, she hurriedly scanned the control layout. The interface was complex, but not completely foreign to her. After a moment’s tinkering, she managed to pull up the ship-wide display of the _Titan_ from earlier. Two additional commands got the display to zoom in on the area where the damaged breaker was. Two flickering orange dots were inching slowly across the hull towards it.

“Kaidan!” she called into the console’s mic. “You and Tali are sitting ducks up there, get moving!”

“We’re okay,” Kaidan’s voice sounded back through the speakers. “No stingers yet.”

Athena zoomed the display back out and cast around the _Titan’s_ perimeter. The proximity alert was coming in from about 30 degrees, but that was also where the asteroids were thickest. She panned the display a half rotation over to where she and Garrus had docked and saw them.

“Watch your back!” she yelled through the comm. “I can see six approaching. They’re blasting where the field’s weakest!”

“Distance?” Tali called back.

“Um,” Athena muttered, her brain working frantically to do the math, “you’ve got about two minutes before you’re in range.”

“That’s not enough!” Kaidan said. “There’s no shelter out here until we reach we the maintenance hatch.”

“Garrus?” Athena called down the bridge.

“Almost there!” came the reply.

Athena swore silently. “Just keeping moving!” she told Kaidan. “We’ll cover you.”

There were more stingers approaching now. The opening in the field where they were streaming through seemed to be growing. Glancing up at the windows, she saw the approaching cluster.

“Here they come!” she shouted to Garrus.

“Not if I can help it!” he answered, this time through the console speaker. “Now!”

A barrage of green light flared up from outside the bridge. Athena saw showers of energy bolts soaring up from the hull towards the oncoming stinger hoard. They scattered as the hail reached them. Scores were blasted apart by the initial wave while dozens more took glancing hits. These either spiraled away out of control or collided with their fellows. The stingers, however, had numbers on their side, and despite the barrage, several managed to evade long enough to fire back.

Athena cringed at the screeching of their weapons. Why did everything about the Drej have to be so eerie? It was as unnatural as it was cruel. Her hands tightened. Though she still hated them, it was not only anger that drove her now. If there was a chance, however slight, for this ship to right some of the wrongs the Drej had done, she _would_ see it to fruition.

Her parents’ faces passed suddenly across her vision for a moment, causing Athena to shut her eyes. She had never thought of them together like that. Not since Earth.

_The two of you are my galaxy._

***

Kaidan heard the screeching above and knew he had only seconds. Ahead of him, Tali was scrambling with every ounce of energy she could muster across the outer hull. The electronic clank of her magboots sounded like the last seconds of a bomb timer ticking down.

“Can you see the hatch?” Kaidan shouted above the growing clamor.

Tali waved to an indent in the hull less than ten meters away. Above them, the sounds of an approaching stinger duo grew louder.

They weren’t going to make it, Kaidan realized.

“Here!” he called again. “Brace yourself!”

Tali turned. “What are you-?”

Before she could finish, Kaidan released the biotic charge and sent her flying down the rest of the way just as the stingers opened fire.

Tali slammed hard into the ground by the hatch. “Kaidan!” she yelled. The stinger blasts had struck inches from where she had been standing. A blaze of orange and gray smoke ballooned up from the impact.

“It’s alright!” she heard Athena say over her radio. “His signal’s still active. Keep going!”

The entrance hatch was sealed tight. Tali skimmed the control panel then muttered, “screw it.” Drawing up her shotgun, she pulled the trigger. The hatch burst open with a groan. Tali slipped inside. The breaker was right where it should be.

“Okay,” she said, approaching the circuit controls, “let’s try this manually,”

She pulled the activator switch. The breaker hummed, tried to engage, sputtered and reverted back to standstill.

“ _Bash’tet_ ,” Tali swore. She flipped open the fuse box and peered inside at the mass of cables. Even in the dim light from the hatch, Tali spotted the damaged coil. “Got you.” She tapped her wrist and an omni-drone, identical to the one she’d summoned before, appeared. “Get that modulator welded shut,” she ordered. “And get some more light in here too.”

Back on the _Titan’s_ surface, Kaidan’s legs were burning. He’d tried to use his biotics to shield the worst of the blasts but hadn’t counted on the amount of damage to the hull they’d kicked up in their wake. As it was, the explosion had all but torn through his kinetic barriers and badly damaged the armor beneath. Although the biotics had kept his upper body contained, he hadn’t been quick enough to extend the cover after throwing Tali to safety. Each step seared painfully up his spine, and his muscles ached. If he could just make it to the hatch….

A second group of five stingers zipped above him.

_Oh come on._

The stingers pulled up and began to loop around, preparing for a second assault. Kaidan braced himself for the worst.

A pair of laser blasts struck the middle stinger clear across its hull. It spun and careened off the others, forcing the entire group to break formation at the last moment.

Amazed, Kaidan looked up and saw the _Valkyrie_ , engines blazing, fire three more bursts at the remaining stingers in fast retreat.

“Apologies for the wait!” Bau’s crisp tone sounded over the comm. “You’re clear, Alenko. Get down there. I’ll keep them off you.”

***

Bau whirled the helm controls as another trio of stingers advanced from behind. The _Valkyrie_ plummeted effortlessly into a nosedive, then rolled to the right as the stingers fired. Using a nearby asteroid as a vector, Bau picked up speed again and looped the ship around in a slingshot motion. The stingers, still getting their bearings after the feint, failed to regroup in time. The V _alkyrie’s_ canons blazed again, and each stinger was blown apart into a cloud of sputtering blue sparks.

Bau blinked. Something was wrong. The Drej had shown themselves multiple times before now to be capable of far better tactics than this. Why was this crucial assault of theirs occurring so haphazardly? Bau’s stark analytical mind raced to answer the question.

If the Queen or the Orb, whichever it was, was actually controlling the other Drej, that changed things. Perhaps that was why on the Citadel and, according to Alenko, again on the mothership, they had demonstrated such ease in devising complex strategies on the fly. If a greater presence was pulling the strings, even in the midst of combat, anything was possible. But that still left the question, Bau realized, of why not now? Had the Queen deemed them too minor a threat to be worth directing the attack personally? Or was she still planning to attack them, but in some other way?

***

“Scratch that one!” Garrus shouted from the gunner station. His eyes scoured the monitor’s multi-targeting display while his hands worked the controls with feverish intensity. The stingers seemed endless, but so far the defenses were holding. The Drej appeared to be assessing the _Titan’s_ capabilities and were attacking in short bursts rather than in full. Fine by him. The longer they delayed a full assault, the more time he and the others had to get the _Titan_ back online. Garrus allowed himself a brief smirk as, with several well-timed shots, he blasted a pair of stingers’ wings clean off and sent them spiraling helplessly into a passing asteroid.

“How’re we looking?” he called to Athena through his headset.

“Tali made it in and Kaidan’s just about to join her. Bau’s out there too in the _Valkyrie_. Careful you don’t hit him.”

“Got it. What about the Drej?”

“I can see a few more coming in from that space they blasted. The mothership’s on the move too. I think it’s circling around to the join them.”

“How long before it clears the gap?”

“I don’t know, ten minutes at the most.”

“Alright, stay alert.”

“You too.”

***

“Tali?” Kaidan said through gritted teeth.

“It’s fighting me!” Tali snapped as she continued to work the breaker controls. “Damn it! The mechanism’s still not holding. I need some way to brace it.”

Before Kaidan could respond, Bau’s voice called over their radios, “Alenko? Athena? Do any of you copy?”

“What is it?” Kaidan heard Athena reply.

“We’ve got a problem. They’re starting to pull back.”

“How is that a problem?” Tali inquired without pausing what she was doing.

“To the mothership!” Bau said. “Alenko, it’s preparing to fire.”

“What?”

“The stingers’ movements are too erratic. This isn’t a coordinated assault - they’re just keeping us busy until the mothership gets within range. You know the rest.”

Kaidan looked aghast. “They’re going to use that much power for this?”

“Yes!” Bau’s tone was becoming earnest. “If we don’t get the relays online before the mothership reaches us, _it’s over_.”

“How long do we have? Can you give us a number?” Tali asked.

There was a pause.

“Less than ten minutes,” Athena finally said into the static.

Kaidan took a deep breath.

“Get going,” he said to Tali. “I’ll take care of it.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be an idiot, we’re almost-”

“Listen!” Kaidan interrupted, “Even with the breaker fixed, we still need to start the reactor!” He pointed to the hatchway. “It’s right at the ship’s core. You and I are closest.”

Tali looked at him strangely. “Kaidan-”

“Just go,” Kaidan said. “We’re not losing here today.”

***

Athena looked up from the console. She wasn’t sure if Kaidan had meant for her to hear, but she had. Outside the windows she could the see distant hole blasted clear of asteroids where the Drej were flying through. The mothership wasn’t visible yet, but her asari sensitivity told her it was close. Was it her imagination, or could she actually sense the deadly intent of the Queen from within the vessel? Athena shivered remembering their encounter on Omega. She looked back at the display and found the main reactor. Her heart sank. Even if Tali left right now she might not get there in time. But if she didn’t, they would fail.

Athena cast a glance towards Garrus, still furiously manning the defenses. Something Tali had said in the observation lounge rippled through her memory. She thought back to what Javik had told her as they’d parted ways. A sudden understanding fell upon her. Without a word, she turned and dashed towards the stairs.

*** 

Kaidan grasped hold of the breaker handle in one hand and with his other, readied a biotic charge. His legs throbbed, but he ignored them.

“Heads up!” he heard Tali yell into the radio. The rush of approaching stingers, then a screech of fire from outside. The blast struck just outside the hatch, and a burst of flame roared through.

Kaidan raised his hand to repel the flames biotically, but it was no use. The explosion knocked him off his feet and sent him hurling back into the chamber wall. A searing pain ripped through his side and light danced in front of his eyes. He grunted, trying to breathe, willing himself to stay conscious.

“I’m pinned!” Tali’s voice broke sharply upon him.“Debris from that blast! Does anyone copy?”

“Copy!” it was Bau. “I see you, Admiral. Hold tight, I’m on my way.”

“Kaidan!” Tali called frantically. “Tell me you’ve got that breaker working!”

With a groan of pain, Kaidan heaved himself up and back towards the handle. Blood was flowing out steadily from his torso, creating a floating red glob in the zero-g environment. Clenching his teeth against the sight, he grasped the breaker handle once more. With the last of his energy he tightened his free hand and tried to form a biotic charge. His L2 implants shuddered dangerously and the light around his eyes intensified.

 _Shepard_ , he thought. _Could this finally make us even?_

The breaker chugged, then crackled as the biotic charge released. A moment later, it hummed to life at last.

***

For the first time since Earth, Athena felt no fear at all as she gazed down the central chasm. She couldn’t see the bottom but knew it ended at the _Titan’s_ reactor core. Strangely, the revelation of no fear barely registered with her. It didn’t feel important now. Athena extended her hands out to either side as if preparing to walk a tightrope then, heart set and face expressionless, she jumped.

Cool air rushed past her head and up her sleeves. Landings whisked by one after the next. The golden-brown glow of the _Titan’s_ interior dimmed slightly as she plunged ever lower. The air current grew fiercer as she gained speed, but she kept her eyes open. There came an ominous twinge at the back of her mind that she thought didn’t have anything to do with her falling. The bottom was nearer now. She could make out its sleek glossy surface. Clenching her hands together, Athena concentrated as she had never concentrated before on focusing, willing, every fragment of biotic energy that she could marshal together into the center of her palms. Images leapt through her head. Earth. Home. Her friends. Her father. Her mother. 

_Please let me be in time!_

She released the charge. Her body jolted to a halt in the air as if stopped by an invisible cushion. She felt her momentum dissipating and the rushing air around her ease. Then, as gently as a pen to paper, her feet touched the floor. She did not even pause to marvel at her success, but pelted headlong across the reactor chamber to the central controls. Another lurch in the recesses of her mind told her she had only seconds left. She ran faster than she ever had. Faster than she would have believed anyone anywhere could run. Her stride carried her right into the base of the metal control panel. She was reaching out her hand. She had grasped the activation lever. She pulled.

A deep metallic boom echoed from the bowels of the _Titan_. It was followed by a second even louder one that made the floor beneath Athena’s feet tremble. Gradually the booms joined together to becoming an immense rumbling that reverberated across every inch of the magnificent ship’s body. Athena stared at the reactor core in front of her, hardly daring to breathe. Light was beginning to appear within it. A cold, shimmering electric blue light. As it grew and filled the core, it changed. First brighter, then warmer, then a change in color from blue to gold. Athena’s heart leapt. She felt as well as saw what was happening. And suddenly without meaning to, without any forethought at all, she shut her eyes and reached out towards the mothership.

***

The space around her had vanished. She was standing or floating, it was hard to tell, within the midst of a nameless void. Lights, stars and galaxies of every size and color swirled past. Before her, a glistening shape loomed out of the void’s depths. It was smaller than the first time she had felt it on Omega, but infinitely more brilliant and terrifying.

 _“You are the one from before,”_ said the Queen. Her shrill voice was even higher than her followers’ and cold as ice.

Athena shuddered but held the Queen’s gaze. “I’m Athena,” she said defiantly.

“ _You are asari, yet you are linked to that human. The one this galaxy calls ‘Shepard.’”_

Each word seemed to prick in Athena’s mind like needles. She swallowed hard. “He’s my father.”

Disgust rippled out from the Queen. _“Impurities never cease.”_

Athena felt her anger rising. “You,” she bit out viciously, “you destroyed my home. You killed my family. All because you were afraid of what my father had discovered.”

 _“That technology was not yours to use,”_ trilled the Queen in frigid tones. _“The human proved that by how he chose to employ the technology once it was realized. Such menial pursuits. You were and are unworthy of an artifact vessel.”_

Athena opened her mouth to argue back but then closed it. “You know, I don’t actually know whether or not that’s true. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is more to this technology than the _Titan_. But even if there is,” her voice grew stronger, “you can’t decide that for us.” She glanced at a comet trailing ice and dust in its wake. “I don’t know where you come from, but in this galaxy we value choice. And every time someone or something has tried to take that from us, it’s never ended well.”

The Queen’s head tilted a fraction. _“Your logic is incomprehensibly childish.”_ She cast one of her glowing hands at the spiral tail of a galaxy. _“Do you know what exists out there? In the great beyond? Do you know what true darkness is? I will tell you. It is fear unlike any you flesh-filled beings could ever conceive. Without an artifact’s light, what chance would any of you have against the dark? What chance would we?”_ The Queen paused, considering Athena. _“You speak of this galaxy as if it has met some of that darkness before. Why then would you deny what we bring?”_

Athena thought the words over. She inhaled, watching the deep crimson and magenta hues of a nebula swirl around her waist. “Because we’re not like you,” she said finally. “We don’t want your light. I don’t want it any more than my father wanted the Reapers’ darkness.”

They hovered in silence.

 _“How pathetic,”_ the Queen mused at last.

Athena thought she detected the faintest trace of regret in the Queen’s voice. “There’s no need to pity us,” she answered. “You’re the one who’s lost.”

 _“Yes,”_ said the Queen. _“That is the cruelest irony of all. That this should end with us as the ones being used.”_

Athena smiled sadly. “I should go,” she said and broke the connection.


	26. Renewal

“My sincerest apologies, Councilors, but at this point I feel obliged to point out that we are nearing the fourth hour of this meeting. Exactly how many times do you wish me to tell the same story?”

Sparatus frowned in irritation behind his podium. “The veracity of your account is not in question, Spectre Bau, but rather the conduct you and Spectre Alenko freely admit to.” He exchanged a glance with Tevos before proceeding. “We granted the pair of you substantial leeway for this mission, yet, when confronted with unknown factors you chose to risk it all on grounds that were conjectural at best.” 

Standing before the four of them, Bau coolly met the turian’s gaze. “I did what I judged to be best,” he said calmly. “If the Council has a problem with my professional decisions, I welcome any feedback.”

Sparatus continued to frown at him but said nothing. Tevos remained as impassive as ever, watching him closely, while Doorin perused something, presumably the very conduct in question, on his terminal. Sanders was watching him too, but with a softer expression than the others.

“Regardless of your intentions, Spectre Bau,” Tevos took over, “these actions constitute a grave violation of the limits of your position. You may postulate as you wish about the results, but that neither alters nor excuses what the two of you did.” Her solemn eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “When all is said and done, our galaxy’s safety is what is paramount, and nothing is above that. No species. No spectre.”

Bau looked at the floor. “Safety,” he mused. “Tell me something, Councilors.” He raised his head to stare at the four together. “If that is true, why then did you hide the _Titan_ from us?”

Tevos blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. If your idea of safety for this galaxy was to keep the greatest technological discovery of our lifetime locked beneath a veil of bureaucracy so thick that even Commander Shepard felt its weight, I must question the soundness of your judgment.”

“Spectre Bau,” said Sparatus warningly, “think your next words over carefully.”

Bau’s eyes narrowed as well. “I already have. If you wish, you may consider this my resignation. I was planning to do so regardless.” He inhaled slowly.

“You speak of safety, but every action you undertook with the _Titan_ shows, to my mind, a different motive - fear. You were afraid of this technology as much as you were impressed by it. You as good as said so when you did not even try to argue my point about colonization at our last meeting. But I would never have believed your fear ran as deep as this.” Bau’s voice shook slightly as he went on. “Ever since the Reapers, each of us has been forced to swallow a very difficult truth about this galaxy - that its best technologies were created not to empower us, but to control. It was a reckoning that even now we are still trying to move past. But then, look at what changed after the war: the krogan abiding by population and breeding agreements, the humans relinquishing territory in the Skyllian Verge, the batarians reopening their embassy and integrating back into council space! So much of what we feared would come to pass if the war was won - needless.” Bau shook his head. “And still, when confronted with a chance to not only shake off the technological collar of the Reapers, but potentially solve the age-old issue of interstellar territory and resources at the same time, _you did not hesitate to conceal it all_.” Bau’s gaze was downright venomous now. “Secrets always come at a cost. Yours lost us the entire human homeworld and the best spectre who ever served this Council.”

The hapless silence left by these words was so bitter one could almost taste it. Nobody spoke.

After a while, Bau said quietly, “Anything else, Councilors?”

Tevos conferred silently with the other three. “One final point we would like you to confirm again - you said that after the _Titan’s_ main power was restored it commenced the terraforming process on its own?”

“Not on its own,” said Bau. “As I explained, we discovered later the sequence had been pre-programmed to activate automatically once power and location criteria were met.” A hint of shrewdness passed across the salarian’s face. “The asteroids proved to be more than substantial.”

“Pre-programmed how?” Doorin pressed over him.

Bau shrugged. “I can only suppose by whoever was last aboard before us.” He waited, expecting one of them to continue the questioning, but none did.

Finally Tevos said, “On behalf of the Council, thank you for your dedication and service, Spectre Bau. This meeting is concluded.”

As he was heading for the stairs, Bau heard someone call his name. Turning, he saw Sanders approaching while the other Councilors exited at the far end.

Bau inclined his head politely. “Councilor.”

Sanders considered him a moment. Her light blue eyes were gentle, but held a graveness that in some ways ran even deeper than Tevos’s.

“How is Major Alenko?” Sanders asked.

Bau’s features softened a little. “He is recovering. As I said, he sends his regrets that he could not be here in person.”

Sanders nodded. “That’s good news. We heard about his decision too.” She checked to see that her colleagues had fully departed then went on. “I can’t speak for the whole Council, but I, for one, am going to miss us working together. And…I’m sorry there wasn’t more we could do for you.”

The formality in Bau’s tone relaxed. “I too bear responsibility for what has transpired. I failed to grasp what the Commander had left for us in that comm buoy. Had I realized back then, things might have gone very differently.” 

Sanders’s expression was sober. “We can’t dwell on the decisions of the past, only prepare for the ones of the future. If Shepard were here with us today, I know he would tell you the same thing.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Bau’s face. “I suppose. Good day, Councilor.”

“Good day, Spectre Bau.”

***

“So, they fire you?” Nora asked.

Bau smiled wryly. “No, I quit in protest, actually. Far more diplomatic.”

“And unexciting.” Nora eyed the presidium fountain they were standing by. Two gigantic statues of a krogan battle master and turian primarch stood proudly side by side in the center. Spouts of water gushed up around them. “No wonder salarians haven’t got one in there yet.”

“Well, neither do humans.” Kaidan slowly raised a hand from the arm of his wheelchair. His face was still scabbed in places, but he sounded better rested than he had in ages. “Thanks for going in solo.”

“My pleasure.” Bau turned his attention to a patch of water rippling out gently. The silver majesty of the presidium was as peaceful as ever. “Have you decided yet what’s next?”

Kaidan shook his head. “My plan is to decide nothing for a while. Besides, it’s not like I can’t stay here if I want.” He glanced up at the towering sea of skyscrapers surrounding them.

“I thought you said that pad was just a place to crash,” Nora recalled.

“I think that part would still apply. What about you?” Kaidan looked at Bau. “I don’t imagine you’re ready to retire yet. You thinking of going back to STG?”

A curious look played over the salarian’s face. He was silent a while before answering. “I know I don’t look it, Alenko, but the truth is I haven’t got very long. Two, maybe three more years at the most.” He shrugged. “And to be perfectly honest, working with you these past months has made for the proudest experience of my professional career.” He held out his hand and Kaidan, looking startled but gratified, shook it.

A shuttle rumbled gently overhead and began descending towards a landing platform at the far end of the fountain.

“That yours?” Nora asked.

Bau nodded. “Time I was off.” He looked at them. “I hope our paths cross again. Even if just once.”

Kaidan watched him board the shuttle. When it took off again he raised a hand in farewell while Nora did the same.

They were quiet after the shuttle had gone. Kaidan leaned back in his wheelchair, grateful for a breeze that was passing. Nora fidgeted absently with the new insignia around her uniform’s collar.

“I think it suits you,” Kaidan said smiling.

“Oh?” Nora eyed him playfully. “You planning to put me to work?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you better hurry up and spill it while you still outrank me.” 

Kaidan tilted his head at the landing platform. “If you’re not in a hurry, I was thinking maybe we could have that drink.”

Nora’s sharp features curved into a grin. “I know a place right here on the presidium - Purgatory. Ever heard of it?”

Kaidan’s own smile widened. “As a matter of fact I have. But a table away from the dancers okay?”

“Pfft, you’re no fun.” Nora took hold of the wheelchair’s handles and began to steer him towards the platform. “Don’t spectres ever get to party?”

“Sure, we do. Remind me to tell you about the time I went to one the Commander himself hosted right here on the Citadel.”

“You serious?”

“That’s not even the craziest part. What actually happened before the party is where things get bizarre.”

Nora put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “You don’t have to try to impress me, you know.”

Kaidan put his own hand over hers. “I’ll tell you later then.”

***

Sunshine, warm and bright, streamed down through the patches of cloud. The grass glistened with dew and rustled faintly with the wind as dawn’s procession gave way to midmorning. Already, the buds of fledgling flowers were beginning to yawn. Away to the right, the patter of a stream flowing out from the distant mountains was just audible.

Athena stretched and gazed out from where she stood at the base of a hill overlooking the plain where it was all happening. For days now, she had come here like this each morning to watch as the world continued its growth. Athena still felt waves of awe whenever she thought back to the _Titan’s_ prowess. It was almost dreamlike how quickly the terrain had changed from molten rock, to dry land and empty sea, and then at last to cooling rains and early flora. Less than a week had elapsed before Garrus deemed the planet safe to land on. The ship, its work concluded, was now resting comfortably atop the hill behind her.

Athena sat down in the grass and closed her eyes. The beauty of it all was more than she could find words for. She wanted nothing else than to sit like this forever.

She sensed Garrus and did not open her eyes when he sat down beside her. The turian inhaled deeply before speaking.

“Tali’s shuttle arrived while you were still asleep. She said she was sorry for missing you.”

Athena kept her eyes closed. “It’s okay. Did she say anything else?”

“She said to tell you, ‘ _keelah se’lai_.’” Garrus glanced sideways at her. “That’s quarian for-”

“I know what it means,” Athena said, smiling to herself. “My father told me once.” She sat up and opened her eyes. The brightness of the Athens sun made her blink. “I guess they were both right.” She watched a wisp of cloud curl away from the peak where it had been resting. In its absence the sunlight poured down, casting the mountain’s emerald slopes into full shine. “Garrus?” Athena said slowly, not looking at him. “Do you think my father’s out there?”

Garrus watched her, but didn’t answer.

“I know what he said,” Athena continued, “But he wasn’t on the ship. Everything was powered down and the terraforming sequence was preset. Only he could have done those things. If he didn’t stay then what if- could he still be alive somewhere?” She finally turned to look at the turian. “Or am I just being stupid because he’s with mother?”

To her surprise, Garrus’s expression was one of interest. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’s pulled something like that off. Or even the second. I wish I knew. But I do know that wherever he is now, he’s proud of you and everything you’ve done.”

Something shimmered far above. The faintest rumble of what might have been an engine slowly echoed down. Athena glanced skyward. “Think it’s another one from the colony?”

Garrus looked up too. “Could be.”

“I hope the rest come soon.” Athena sank her hands into the grass and trailed them back and forth through the soft blades.

Garrus eyed her thoughtfully. “What about you?”

Athena glanced at him. “Me?”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“I think so.” The corner of Athena’s mouth twitched. “Maybe I’ll give that academy a go first. I can always come back after.”

Garrus chuckled. “You really are something special, you know?” His dark eyes twinkled in approval. “Whatever this galaxy has got planned for you next, I’m with you - ’til the very end.” She smiled at him. In her own eyes the sun’s rays were reflected.

Another ship rumbled past. Athena watched it hopefully. More would come. They would all come. There would be so much to do in the days ahead: places to discover, things to build, people to meet. Athena lay back upon the grass and closed her eyes again. Wind whispered gently into her ear.

Those other things could all wait, she decided. For now, she was home.

THE END


	27. Mass Effect: A.E. - Legacy Codex

  * **Asari** : Known for their judgment and maturity, the asari hail from the planet Thessia and are one of the four species to hold a seat on the Citadel Council. Asari are technically mono-gendered, but bear many features typically observed among females of other species. Because of this, asari tend to refer to themselves with feminine pronouns for ease of communication. Asari are humanoid in appearance but have blue skin, purple blood, and thick cartilage follicles instead of hair. Due to naturally high Element Zero levels on their home-world, most asari excel at biotics, and nearly all have at least a basic knowledge of the craft. Asari can live for up to a thousand years or more and possess the ability to mate with any other species through a process called “bonding." This act is as much spiritual as physical and it allows asari to take in the genetic traits of their partner, which are then passed on to their offspring. In this way, although the children are asari, they may exhibit behaviors and even values more in keeping with the partner species than their own.



  * **Batarians** : A once proud species that was devastated horribly by the Reapers in 2186. Before the war, the Batarians generally kept to themselves and often clashed with the Council and Alliance over territory. Rumors spoke of a mighty empire in the vicinity of their home-world, Khar’shan, but after the Reapers’ arrival much of their culture was lost or destroyed. Batarians are roughly equal in height to humans, with folded brown leathery skin, two pairs of eyes, and multiple rows of sharp teeth. They have deep gravelly voices and are generally suspicious, if not outright confrontational, to other species, particularly humans with whom there is a lot of bad blood. 



  * **Biotics** : Biotics refers to both the ability of being able to telekinetically manipulate objects using Element Zero, and the individuals who have mastered this skill. Through rigorous training and the assistance of surgically implanted “biotic amp” devices in the body, biotic users can push, pull, crush, shield, or gravitationally trap people and objects alike. Exceptionally powerful biotics, or multiple ones working together, can go after even larger targets, such as heavy mechs and skycars. To become a biotic, one must be deemed at birth to have “biotic potential.” Being born in such a state typically comes about by exposure to Element Zero while still in-utero. Planets with naturally high levels of Element Zero have populations who regularly birth biotics, while species on worlds where the substance is more scarce may import it and occasionally have “accidental mass exposures” to produce their own. Although most species look upon biotics with respect and intrigue, some cultures are afraid of the phenomenon and treat biotic users with distrust.



  * **Clusters** : Large areas within the galaxy made up of one or more solar systems. Clusters are connected to each other through the Mass Relays.



  * **Comm buoys** : Orbital and interplanetary hubs of data and communications, comm buoys serve as the primary means to send and receive information across the endless expanse of the Milky Way Galaxy. Priority bandwidths are given to Citadel and capital world political officials, with top military commanders and intelligence agents close behind. Subsequent premium bandwidths may be purchased for use, the amount given depending on how much is paid, with civilian public access falling in at the lowest tier of transmission priority.



  * **The Crucible** : At the onset of the Reaper War, a series of blueprints was uncovered in the Alliance research facility on Mars by Dr. Liara T’Soni. The facility was built atop a set of prothean ruins first discovered back in 2148 and the blueprints were soon found to be plans for a mysterious weapon of untold destructive power. The protheans attempted to build this weapon in hopes of defeating the Reapers once and for all, but were unable to complete it in time before the Reapers destroyed them. With Shepard’s help, Liara passed the plans on to Alliance high command, who took up the task of finishing the job the protheans started. Dubbed “Project Crucible,” the weapon, as Shepard later learned, was actually first conceived by a species even older than the protheans, who designed it as a means to destroy the Reapers by using their own technology against them. Each species that came after added to the designs, with the protheans being the most recent. In the end, the Crucible was completed and, thanks to Shepard’s efforts, activated before the Reapers could destroy it. The weapon lived up to expectations, drawing upon the combined power of the Citadel and the Mass Relays to generate a gigantic galaxy-wide blast that wiped out all synthetic life.



  * **Elcor** : A large four-legged species from the high gravity world of Dekuuna, elcor are powerful, but slow-moving. They have hulking, elephantine bodies with flat faces and vertical slats instead of mouths. Their methods of communication are incredibly subtle, often conveying meaning through the slightest flap or twitch of the face while their verbal speech comes across as monotone to nearly all other species. To compensate for this when communicating outside their own, elcor add an emotional clarifier to the beginning of everything they say, such as “Polite curiosity: Welcome, how may I help you?” Elcor are methodical and conscientious by nature, and can live for up to four centuries.



  * **Element Zero (Eezo)** : A curious substance that provides the foundation for most of the galaxy’s advanced technologies. By subjecting eezo to an electrical current the material releases dark energy, which is then converted into a “mass effect field” that can increase and decrease the mass of anything inside depending on the current’s charge. Mass effect field manipulation has near unlimited functions, but is most notably used to allow ships to reach faster-than-light (FTL) travel speeds without resulting in time dilation.



  * **Geth** : A synthetic species created by the quarians over a thousand years ago. Translated, the name means “servant of the people," which was exactly what the quarians intended them to be. The geth were designed as a labor force, never to be sentient, but due to the nature of their networked consciousness, which allowed the geth to “share” experiences in order to learn faster, it wasn’t long before the species began to ask its creators things like, “does this unit have a soul?” Panicked by the geth’s self-awareness, the quarians attempted to permanently deactivate them, but failed, and war broke out soon after. The geth ultimately emerged victorious over the quarians, who were forced to evacuate their home-world and all surrounding colonies in order to survive. The geth retreated beyond the galaxy’s northern edge to live a life of isolation, and did not reemerge until the arrival of the Reapers nearly a millennium later. The harshness of the Reaper War served to bring them back into the path of their creators, at first in conflict; but eventually, thanks to the efforts of Commander Shepard and Admiral Tali Zorah, a peace was made between the two species. The geth fought side by side with their creators for the remainder of the war, but sadly no further. They perished along with the Reapers in the Crucible’s blast. 



  * **Hanar** : A jellyfish-like species known for their extreme courteousness, and who communicate using a form of organically-generated light flashes called “bio-luminescence.” Hanar are slow and awkward out of the water, but remarkably fast and graceful within it. In addition, they consider the protheans to be their gods, calling them “the Enkindlers” and devoting a great deal of time to their worship. 



  * **Human Systems Alliance** : First founded in 2149, the Alliance is a massive organization composed of Earth’s strongest nations and, later on, principal colonies. While a comparative newcomer in the greater galactic community, the Alliance has nevertheless distinguished itself many times over and continues to serve as the collective voice for human interests. Although not above reproach, it is without question one of the most powerful military and political factions in the entire galaxy.



  * **Krogan** : A bipedal reptilian species from the danger-infested planet Tuchanka. Due to the unforgiving nature of their home, Krogan are built to be tough all over with wide-set eyes for enhanced visual acuity, water and nutrient humps on their backs, multiple vital organs, secondary nervous systems, extremely high birth rates, and a survival instinct commonly referred to as “blood rage,” which renders them all but impervious to pain. Due to their immense physical durability, Krogan are also one of the longest living races, with some reaching as many as 1,400 standard years. Krogan history is, unsurprisingly, quite violent, and their role in the galaxy has shifted more than once between the extremes of savior and nemesis.



  * **Mass Relays** : Gigantic eezo-powered transit gates scattered throughout the galaxy. Together, these devices form a vast network, allowing ships to quickly traverse distances that, even at normal FTL speeds, would take ages. Despite their size and complexity, the Mass Relays are ancient and for many years were believed to have been constructed by the protheans. This was disproved in 2183 when Commander Shepard encountered a Reaper named Sovereign, who revealed that it was in fact the Reapers that built them, along with the Citadel, all as part of the means to control the galaxy for their “harvests.”



  * **Mechs** : Mechanical constructs that exist across a wide spectrum of design and function. Some of the more common variants include human-sized bipedal models for security, engineering, or basic labor, quadruped models akin to guard dogs for fast response tasks, and larger reinforced models for heavy lifting and construction, or anti-infantry assault. Most mechs have a built-in V.I. and are capable of self-operating, but some are designed to hold human pilots, or be controlled remotely.



  * **The New Conduit** : A transit device similar to the Mass Relays, constructed by the Alliance after the Reaper War. The original Conduit was discovered on the planet Ilos by Commander Shepard in 2183. It resembled a miniature Mass Relay and had been built, not by the Reapers, but by a team of prothean scientists fifty thousand years ago. The Conduit allowed for near instantaneous transportation to the Citadel for any person, vessel, or object, no matter the size. Later, near the end of the Reaper War in 2186, a similar device was used by Reaper forces on Earth and ultimately played a key role in the final battle. After the war, it wasn’t long before humanity recovered the technology of both devices and used it to build one of their own. Thus Earth and the Citadel were linked anew for the reconstruction period that followed. 



  * **Omni-tools** : Small multi-purpose devices that are mounted over the user’s wrist. Standard omni-tools are built primarily around a micro-computer, scanner, and miniature fabricator and resemble an orange hologram encasing the user’s hand and forearm while active. As the name suggests, omni-tools can perform an incredible variety of tasks; however, some of the more common functions include scanning analysis, visual display or communications, and equipment repair. Other specialized uses range from weapons fabrication and biotic amplification, to even generating holographic maintenance and attack drones.



  * **Protheans** : The dominant species that ruled the galaxy fifty thousand years ago. Although much about the protheans is still shrouded in mystery, some of the culture has recently been brought to light. The protheans first evolved as hunters with exceptionally keen touch. Over time, this sensitivity allowed the protheans to learn everything from the personality of another individual to entire foreign languages through touch alone. Prothean culture was also heavily imperialistic. Following their discovery of FTL travel and mass effect field manipulation, the protheans proceeded to subjugate, and afterwards ruler over, all the other lesser species of their era. The subservient races gradually came to call themselves “prothean” as well, and for a time it seemed like nothing could challenge the empire’s regime. This facade was horribly shattered by the Reapers’ arrival, however, and though the protheans fought a bitter war that lasted for centuries, the Reapers eventually destroyed them, leaving behind on many worlds the scorched ruins of their once magnificent cities. Despite the Reapers’ intentions, however, the extermination was not complete. Two prothean strongholds managed to escape the destruction and last into the galaxy’s next cycle: a research lab on Ilos and a military bunker on Eden Prime. Furthermore, each facility held active stasis pods: the lab’s top scientists in one and the bunker’s commanding officer, Javik, in the other. Though circumstance prevented them from reuniting directly, both proved subsequently invaluable to defeating the Reapers at last, so many years later. 



  * **Quarians** : A formerly nomadic species, highly social and known for their technological expertise and resourcefulness. Quarians are largely humanoid in appearance, having similar bodies, faces, and hair, but only three digits on their hands and feet. They are also smaller in build and, though bipedal, have legs which bow backward to a far greater extent than that of humans or asari. Their eyes too are different in that they have no pupils, but glow naturally and can see into the ultraviolet end of the spectrum. More unusual, however, is their weak immune system. This came about from a combination of the quarian home-world never evolving complex insect life and, after being forced into exile by the geth, the species living for centuries aboard sterile ship environments. It is also what eventually led to the development of quarian enviro-suits. Since reclaiming their home-world in 2186, however, much of the species’ efforts have gone towards researching new ways to strengthen their immune systems in the hope of no longer having to rely so heavily on their suits to survive. 



  * **Reapers** : An ancient highly advanced race of sentient constructs. For millions of years the Reapers acted as a hidden force, controlling the path of all organic life in the galaxy by means of a vicious cycle. Every fifty-thousand years the Reapers would emerge from dark space hibernation and systematically “harvest” the individuals of every advanced civilization in the Milky Way, leaving the younger primitive races alone. Each harvest resulted in the outright obliteration of the species targeted, and those that rose after were left to wonder forever what happened prior. The Reapers were also responsible for the construction of the Mass Relays and Citadel. By providing a ready-made capital station and transit network, the Reapers ensured that each new species to discover FTL travel would subsequently continue to evolve their technology and society along the path the Reapers chose. Thus, when the time came for the next harvest, the Reapers were able to readily exploit each cycle’s primary means of defense and organization. The Reapers existed in many varieties, some as vessels, others as foot-soldiers, but their most iconic form was of a massive squid-like starship, deep purple or indigo in color, with glowing red eyes and five metallic tentacles. Large, resistant, and nightmarishly powerful, the Reapers proved all but impossible to defeat through conventional warfare, and many trillions of souls fell victim to them before signs of resistance showed. The protheans were the first to disrupt the Reapers’ plans, with the team of scientists on Ilos both escaping their own harvest and subsequently discovering a way to halt the Reapers’ means of invasion for the next one. Though only temporary, this delay proved just long enough to inadvertently buy Commander Shepard and key allies of the next cycle enough time to realize the threat of the Reapers and so be ready to act when they did arrive. Furthermore, once coupled with Liara’s discovery of the Crucible plans and the revival of prothean commander Javik on Eden Prime, the delay ultimately resulted in the Reapers being unprepared for the finale that awaited them. At the last, the Crucible was activated, and the Reapers were eradicated once and for all in its anti-synthetic blast. The terrible shadow that had for so long controlled life in the galaxy was dispelled.



  * **Salarians** : One of the four Council races, salarians are renowned for their exceptional cleverness and strategy. Amphibious with green blood, leathery skin, and membraned eyes, salarians also possess an incredibly fast metabolism. This allows them to sleep little, talk fast, think faster, and generally work at a rate of productivity unmatched by other species. The downside to these abilities is a comparatively short lifespan that rarely lasts longer than 40 years. Salarians are also masters of invention and behind many of the more cutting-edge technologies found across the galaxy.



  * **Spectres** : Shorthand for the Citadel branch known as “Special Tactics and Reconnaissance,” spectres are the galaxy’s most elite group of operatives. Their members may be of any species, but are handpicked exclusively by the Council and are answerable only to them. Spectres typically work alone on Council-assigned field missions and tend to handle the majority of their decisions with minimal interference from the Council directly.



  * **Systems** : Smaller territories within clusters, usually of multiple planetary bodies orbiting around a home star or sun.



  * **Thermal Clips** : Thanks to advances in technology, modern weapons no longer fire individual metal rounds, but rather identical sand-sized particles which are shaved off a metal block using mass effect field technology and then fired at supersonic speed. While this eliminates the need for traditional bullets, the process generates significant heat that can quickly lock up the weapon if one is not careful. To compensate for this, removable heat sinks, or thermal clips, were invented in order to prevent overheating and at the same time allow for a greater volume of fire which, given sister advances in shield and barrier technology, was just as well. Thermal clips are easy to come by but can pose a fire risk when discarded carelessly.



  * **Turians** : A proud and disciplined species, turians were the third race to join the Council after the asari and salarians. Owing to a considerably militarized society, the turian people quickly formed the backbone of galactic security and to this day possess more firepower among their navy than most other species combined. Turians are avian in appearance, resembling to some the humanoid equivalent of birds or dinosaurs on Earth. They are tall, growing naturally over six feet, with thick skin, dark blue blood and sharp talons instead of fingers that are capable of tearing flesh. Their heads also possess a carapace comprising small quantities of thulium to protect against the high level of solar radiation on their home world, and their lifespan is roughly the same as humans’. Turians are collectivist by nature and rarely put individual needs before those of a group.



  * **Virtual Intelligences (V.I.s)** : Not to be confused with A.I.s, virtual intelligences may appear smart and sophisticated but possess no self-awareness of their own. Their purpose ranges from data compilation and extranet site maintenance to weapon or armor enhancement and space navigation. VIs are also used for recreation and entertainment, with some acting as tour guides, event hosts, or other digital personalties through the use of clever programming. Occasionally, VIs of historical figures are also created for the purpose of education; however, it is against the law to make a VI based on anyone still living. 



  * **Vorcha** : A primitive and violent race, vorcha are rarely seen outside the galaxy’s more lawless areas. They have bumpy, mottled builds, with bloated eyes, pointed faces and long sharp teeth. Although primordial, vorcha biology is nevertheless among the more unusual in the galaxy due to their extraordinary ability to rapidly adapt on a cellular level to just about any external hardship. This allows their bodies a moderate degree of regenerative power and renders them all but immune to disease. Vorcha culture is characterized almost entirely by combat with little to no government of any kind and, at 20 standard years, their lifespans are among the shortest in the galaxy, with few even living to that.




End file.
